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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



X 



THE BLESSED BIRDS 

OR 

HIGHWAYS 

ak D BYWAYS 

/ 

BY ELDRIDGE EUGENE FISH. 




PUBLISHED BY 
OTTO ULBRICH 

395 Main St., Buffalo, N. V. 









Copyright, 1890. 



E. E. Fish. 



Press of Baker, Jones & Co., Buffalo, N. Y. 



CONTENTS. 



Spring Arrival of the Birds - 7 

A Day's Outing in Search of the Arbutus - - 45 

Ventriloquial and Imitative Power of Birds 61 

Wrens - - - - - - 75 

Trees and Trees - - - - - - 89 

Intelligence in Birds - - - - - - 109 

A Day in an Old Orchard - - - - 125 

Autumn Visitors - - - - - - 141 

Nesting Habits of Birds - - - - - 151 

Maple Sugar Making - - - - - -161 

Danger of an Early Extinction of Song Birds - - 173 

A Search for a Whippoorwill's Nest - - - 189 

A Summer Drive in the Lake Country - 201 
Ornithological Nomenclature ----- 247 



PREFACE. 



Some of the following papers originally 
appeared in the ' Buffalo Sunday Courier,' ' Buf- 
falo Commercial/ Bulletin of the c Society of 
Natural Sciences/ and Chicago ' Humane Jour- 
nal.' They were apparently so well received 
that I have been persuaded to revise and 
republish them, in connection with others of 
more general interest, in book form. 

What I have written of the birds in this little 
volume has been <a labor of love.' Human 
companionship excepted, these blessed creatures 
have ministered to my happiness in a greater 
degree than any other class of objects. About 
home they have ever been a solace and a delight. 
When I have been among human strangers I 
have found the birds old acquaintances and inti- 
mate friends, always giving so much, and exacting 
so little in return. The continued persecution 



VI PREFACE. 

which they have received from the cruel and 
unthinking has been the great sorrow of my life. 

Although in a humble way, ' in season/ and 
perhaps, sometimes, 6 out of season,' I have 
worked and pleaded for a better and wiser treat- 
ment of them, yet I shall ever remain their 
grateful debtor. 

If I have written anything that shall make 
them better known and better loved — anything 
that shall cause a woman to hesitate before 
allowing any part of one to disfigure her gar- 
ment — anything that will prevent the present 
lavish waste of life by the collector of specimens — 
anything that will check the wholesale destruc- 
tion of nests by the thoughtless egg collector — 
I shall feel repaid for the labor bestowed. 




SPRING ARRIVAL 

OF THE BIRDS. 



" The interest the birds excite is of all grades, from that 
which looks upon them as items of millinery, up to that 
of makers of ornithological systems, who ransack the 
world for specimens, and who have no doubt that the chief 
end of a bird is to be named and catalogued. Somewhere 
between the tiuo extremes comes the person whose interest in 
the birds is personal and friendly, who has little taste for 
shooting and an aversion for dissecting, who delights in the 
living creatures themselves, and counts a bird in the bush 
worth two in the hand ; not rating birds merely as bodies, 
but as souls. 

(( Others will discover in the birds of which I ivrite many 
things that I miss, and perhaps will miss some things 
which I have treated as patent or even conspicuous. It 
remains for each to testify what he has seen, and at the 
end to confess that a soul, even the soul of a bird, is, 
after all, a mystery." 

Bradford Torrey's 'Birds in the Bush/ 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. 



March 27. — Among the fair gifts which the bright 
days of spring will bestow upon us, none are looked 
forward to with livelier anticipation of pleasure than the 
coming of the birds. If there is a tender spot in the heart, 
it will leap with a thrill of joy as the first musical note 
of the robin or bluebird falls on the ear, an invocation 
from awakening nature. It is the return of dear friends 
from long and perilous journeys. The only flaw in our 
enjoyment of them is the thought that only a fraction 
of those which left us last summer and autumn will 
return. Like the soldiers of an harassed army, many 
fell on field and highway on their southern journey ; 
others were destroyed for food in the land to which 
they had gone to escape the cold of our winters, while 
still a larger number were killed and are being killed on 
their homeward journey. Each year these annual 
migrations are beset with increased perils. The country 
over which they pass offers fewer secure feeding places. 
Forests have been cut down; swamps have been drained; 
the freedmen who often watch for this small game are 
becoming more generally provided with fire-arms ; 
additional lighthouses have been erected along the 
coasts. These latter are sources of peculiar danger to 



10 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

the birds, as most of them fly during the nights ; and if 
these are dark, the lighthouses always attract great 
numbers, which perish by dashing against them. Some 
mornings hundreds have been picked up under one of 
these false beacons to the birds. The city lights also 
allure thousands on dark and stormy nights. Many of 
these strike against the high buildings or against the 
net-work of wires, now so generally distributed. But 
the greatest danger, and the one for which all sensible 
and humane people must blush, is the bloody gauntlet 
these beautiful and innocent creatures have to pass, of 
the thousands of heartless, greedy gunners who are on 
the watch for their coming, and who kill countless 
scores of them which stop for rest or food or by stress 
of weather. The danger is all the greater, as the spring 
migrations mostly occur before the leaves are thick 
enough to screen from sight, and the birds are in bright 
plumage, the more attractive and tempting to the most 
destructive classes, the collectors of specimens and the 
gatherers of bird skins for decorative and millinery 
purposes. Between these two classes of outlaws, 
assisted by the army of worthless tramps who kill for 
the fun of killing, the innocent birds are subjected to 
persecutions unknown to other living creatures. The 
last few years have been those of great peril and 
destruction to them, and they are disappearing surely 
and more rapidly than the shy wild flowers over whose 
loss the true botanist is so justly troubled. When we 
realize the large number of men and boys whose sole 
occupation is killing them, and when we see the hun- 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. 11 

clrecls and thousands of their lifeless bodies in shops, on 
hats and fans, in private cases and in museums, knowing 
too that for every one preserved many more are wasted 
and thrown away, we only wonder that any remain. 
"We may truly say of these, as was said of old of other 
things, " Except these days be shortened, none shall be 
saved." 

To those who truly love the birds and who make 
pleasant companionship with them, a yearly chronicling 
of their first arrival in the spring is an agreeable recrea- 
tion. The observing naturalist knows pretty well when 
to expect the different species, although the weather 
may hasten or retard for a few days the arrival of some 
of the earlier migrants. A few of the hardier species 
remain in this latitude the year round. Among these 
are the snow-buntings, snow-birds, woodpeckers, nut- 
hatches and titmice. The buntings and snow-birds feed 
mostly from seeds of the tall weeds which stand above 
the snow, while the others live on larvae and insects 5 
eggs, hidden in the bark of shrubs and trees, so that all 
weather is alike to them excepting when the trees are 
covered with a coating of ice. Many a day during the 
past winter, when the thermometer was near zero, and 
sometimes even below, the little black-capped titmouse 
{Parus attricapillus), cheerful and sprightly, lisped out 
his chick-a-de-dee as he searched the limbs of the maple 
trees for food. Occasionally on milder mornings, his 
sweet, plaintive whistle, much resembling that of the 
white-throated sparrow, was a grateful surprise, as this 
whistle is his usual love-song, oftener heard at mating 



12 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

time. He has still another song, not put down in the 
books, which it has occasionally been my good fortune 
to hear, a dainty little warble, clear and liquid as a rip- 
pling brook. 

Of the migratory birds proper, the shore larks 
(Otocoris alpestris) are probably the first ones here from 
the south. In moderate winters one may see them in 
the city suburbs or outlying fields in February. They 
often bring out the first brood in the latter part of 
March, or early in April. Last year near the park 
homestead a nest was found with four eggs, which were 
hatched the first w^eek in April. I have seen the young 
birds running about as nimble as little partridges sev- 
eral seasons as early as this. The late snows often cover 
the bird while she is sitting on the nest, and it is a mys- 
tery how she keeps herself and eggs from freezing. 
These larks are so silent and retiring in manner that 
their presence is less likely to be observed than that of 
some of the later comers. In habit they are real 
ground birds, but, unlike most such, they walk or run, 
but do not hop. When closely pressed they take wing, 
uttering a soft "cheep" rise rapidly to some height, 
and then suddenly drop down again near the place of 
starting. They seldom alight on a tree or green bush, 
but often perch on a rail or fence-stake by the roadside, 
where, if undisturbed, they will sit silent for a long time. 

"While on the wing they often indulge in a low, 
monotonous warble, but their real song, which is 
sprightly and musical, is generally given from the 
ground, or from a perch on a stone in the open field. 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. 16 

They may easily be recognized by the strong mark- 
ings, particularly about the head, a black crescent under 
the eye and a peculiar tuft of lengthened feathers on 
each ear resembling horns — from which one of their 
common names, " horned larks." The color of the back 
is a pale brown, the under parts being white, with a 
darker shading towards the upper breast, where it is 
met by a crescent of black. The throat and chin are 
yellow, and the tail black, with the outer edges tipped 
with white. 

Of our three well-known favorites, the robin, bluebird 
and song sparrow, it is a question which we will see 
first, as it is sometimes one and sometimes another. In 
favorable localities, individual robins make their appear- 
ance in the advance, but the two other species generally 
arrive in force a little the earlier. On his first arrival 
the robin, in most cases, has only a call or a scold, and 
the bluebird only a gentle twitter ; but the song spar- 
row comes with his sweet song in his throat ready to 
break out in clearest cadence almost as soon as he 
alights. The first mellow call of the robin, like that of 
the high hole, is as sweet as a song, and one of the most 
pleasing sounds of spring. When he has been here a 
day or two he will more than make amends for his first 
silence, and all through the spring and summer, early 
and late, he will fill the land with more rich melody 
than any other living being. He is a companionable 
bird, seeking the haunts of civilization, and may oftener 
be heard in orchards, lawns and along shady highways 
than in the forests. 



14 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

March 9th, this year, blue birds were flying north ward 
over the city at intervals during the morning. They 
had undoubtedly been on the wing all night, as it was 
pleasant and moonlight. They were just visible to the 
eye, and only uttured their plaintive " chee-ry," but it 
was the first real voice of spring, and sent a thrill of 
pleasure through the heart of the listener, quickening 
the pulses like some tender pathos in a poem. The fol- 
lowing day, March 10th, robins were seen in different 
parts of the city, and song sparrows in considerable 
numbers were in the park and at Forest Lawn ; these 
were in full song, and not troubled, like their weather- 
wise human friends, about the wintry weather still in 
store for them. In turning over my note-book I read 
" March 9 and 10, 1877, robins, song sparrows, blue 
birds and purple grackle here in great numbers." Only 
one year since have they come as early. Last year it 
was March 18th, and the year before a week later. They 
often arrive just before or soon after the spring equinox. 
The date of the arrival of those that come later when the 
weather is settled can be predicted with greater accuracy. 

Apkil 3. — Closely following the robins, sometimes 
accompanying them, are the purple grackles (Quiscalus 
quisculd). Their cousins, the redwings (Agelais phoeni- 
ceus\ come a little later. Both are harbingers of 
spring, bright spots of life and color in the naked land- 
scape. On some bright, crisp morning in March we 
generally first see the grackle, where, from his high 
perch near the top of a tree, in a song, half gurgle, half 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. 15 

warble, lie greets a companion sure to be near. The 
grackles choose an elevated position from which to sing, 
but in feeding they are less ambitious, and walk about 
leisurely on the ground searching for grubs and worms 
and other earth insects. In the fields they often follow, 
at a safe distance, the plow, eagerly devouring the 
fat, wriggling morsels brought to light by the upturned 
furrow. They are, to quite an extent, city birds, haunt- 
ing lawns where are evergreens, and often nesting in 
these if the trees are large and dense. Forest Lawn is 
one of their favorite resorts, and hundreds of them 
remain here during the season. Every summer they 
nest in the evergreens of the old part of the cemetery, 
and a few pairs in the clumps of pines near the clear 
lake. "When one of these nests is disturbed a dozen 
birds will frequently become noisy and threatening, 
making common cause against the intruder. They may 
well be watchful and unite forces, as thev are not fav- 
orites of the smaller birds, which they often rob of eggs 
and young. One is sorry to even speak of any birds in 
other than commendatory terms, and if feasting on the 
delicious green corn of the farmers at the beginning of 
the fall migrations was their only fault, far would it be 
from me to expose their short-coming; but robbing- 
nests and killing innocent birds are grievous faults, and 
the perpetrators, be they men, boys or birds, ought not 
to be shielded from proper punishment. The grackles 
are very handsome, with trim figures and rich suits of 
black and purple, emerald and bronze. These colors 
are changeable, in different lights, often showing an 



16 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

iridescence as rich and brilliant as that of the wood 
duck or the wild pigeon. *» 

The redwing, or American starling, is smaller than 
the grackle or crow blackbird, and although less brill- 
iant, has stronger markings. The male is black, with 
the exception of the shoulders, which are bright scar- 
let, with buff and orange edgings. These epaulets are 
conspicuous, and give him a jaunty, military appear- 
ance well in keeping with his character. On his first 
arrival his habits are much like those of the grackle. 
He likes a perch on an upper twig or limb, where he 
will cluck and call, gurgle and whistle, as the mood 
overtakes him. One seldom hears a pleasanter musicale 
than was given one morning in Eumsey park by these 
bright-colored minstrels. It was just after sunrise. A 
robin began with his sweet old story of " Cherries, 
cherries, to be ripe in June;" a grackle from an ever- 
green interrupted with "Forme? Are they for me ? " 
Then some redwings from a neighboring willow 
chimed in, " Oh ! what glee we shall see." One thought 
of Emerson's " May Day : " 

Why chidest thou the tardy spring? 
The blackbirds make the maples ring 

With social cheer and jubilee: 

The redwing flutes his ok-a-lee. 

The redwings often stop several days in or about the 
city in the localities favored with tall trees, but on the 
arrival of the females, which is frequently two or three 
weeks later, they are off to low meadows, marshes or 
swamps, in which to nest, probably influenced by the 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. 17 

food supply more readily obtained in these places. "With 
the exception of the cow-bunting, the blackbirds are all 
companionable, and later gregarious, gathering in large 
flocks, seemingly organized and under the direction of 
chosen leaders. Those bright little gems, the golden- 
crowned wrens (Regidus satrapa), began to arrive about 
the middle of March. They first made their presence 
known by a slight chirping as they hopped about the 
branches of the low trees in quest of food. They have 
stout little feet with sharp claws, and can cling to the 
trunk of a tree or on the under side of a limb much in 
the manner of the chicadees and creepers. They are 
the smallest of our song birds, genteel in .figure, rich in 
color, with gentle and confiding manners. They are 
more frequently called "kinglets," and they answer 
well to the name "little kings," among the birds. They 
are courageous and hardy little creatures, braving cold 
and snows and long journeys. They seem to have little 
fear of man, and will allow one to stand within a few 
feet of them without showing any sign of apprehension. 
Their limited acquaintance doubtless accounts for this 
too often misplaced confidence. 

A few days ago I was standing under an old oak, 
watching the graceful movements of three or four of 
these beautiful creatures as they chirped and twittered 
while searching the bark and twigs for food. 

To attract their attention I commenced in low tones 
to talk to them. Suddenly one began to descend, hop- 
ping from one limb to another, and finally alighted on 
my head. It was only for an instant, however; as his 



18 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

feet touched the hat it startled him, and with a quick 
chirp he flew to another tree. I could not again coax 
him within reach, although he watched me curiously for 
some time. 

Most of them pass the winter months in the south- 
ern forests, and the summer in the northern woods 
away from the haunts of men; though some of them 
pass the summer in Central and Western New York. 
Ornithologists do not credit them with breeding as far 
south as this, but I have little doubt that they nest in 
the woods at Portage, Idlewood and Angola, as I have 
found them here in pairs, and in full song, from April 
till the middle of July. The golden-crowned wren is 
olive green above, darker between the wings ; the outer 
webs of the wings and tail feathers are bright green ; 
the under parts of the body a grayish white ; the wings 
marked with black, with two white bars across them. 
There is a patch of bright orange on the crown, mar- 
gined with yellow and black. This bright crown spot 
the bird can obscure by a movement of the yellow 
feathers surrounding it, so that it sometimes appears to 
flash like the sparkle of the firefly. The female and 
young havQ only the yellow in the place of the bright 
crest of the adult male. Their stay is often prolonged 
several days in the city and open country. During this 
time they have only a soft twitter or chirp, much like 
that of the little chippy, only shorter and lighter. Their 
fine songs are reserved for their summer home in the 
deep woods. This song is a sweet, vibrating whistle, 
and can be heard at a great distance. Burroughs calls 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. 19 

it the " needle song," it is so finely drawn. Its wild, 
sylvan melody, like that of the winter wren, hallows 
the woods, investing their shadowy recesses with an 
additional charm. 

The high wind that partially wrecked Music Hall one 
night last October played mischief with these kinglets, 
which in great numbers were making their southern 
journey. They were compelled to alight; some were 
dashed to the ground, and others flew against windows 
where lights were left burning; some of these were 
taken in and cared for till morning. The following day 
the shade trees were alive with these bright little 
strangers, which immediately made themselves at home. 
It was pleasant to watch them as they busied them- 
selves searching the tree for larvae and insects' e^gs. 
When they found an infected limb they did not leave 
until it was entirely cleared. The English sparrows 
watched them inquisitively, following them about, not 
knowing whether to regard them as visitors or intruders. 
They were so tame and unsuspecting that many were 
killed with sticks and stones by gangs of bad boys in 
different parts of the city 7 who went from tree to tree 
in pursuit until dispersed by policemen. 

The past week has been one of extreme hardship to the 
venturesome birds. The drenching rain froze as it fell, 
coating everything with ice, thus cutting off the natural 
supply of food. This was followed by a fall of snow and 
severe cold. The robins have been silent and dumpish. 
Many of the blue birds perished, and others have disap- 
peared. Even with those hardy little wrens the problem 



20 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

of existence has been a close one, but the presence of 
so many of them shows that they have satisfactorily 
solved it. 

April 10. — The ruby-crowned wrens {liegidus calen- 
dula) are a little tardier in coming than their cousins, 
the golden-crowned. In habit, size, color and markings 
they bear a close resemblance. The distinguishing 
physical feature is the redder patch on the crown of the 
former, which is often obscured by the loose feathers 
surrounding it. This patch is bright red instead of 
orange. The songs of the two species are very differ- 
ent. That of the ruby-crowned is a broken w r arble, 
while the golden- crowned is a slender whistle; both are 
on high keys and far-reaching. The former sing dur- 
ing their transient stay ; the latter not till their arrival 
at their summer home in the woods. I know of but 
one other so small bird, and that is the winter wren, 
whose notes are so resonant and far-sounding as those 
of the ruby-crowned. To hear his song is a favor well 
worthy of chronicling. I shall not soon forget my glad 
surprise on first hearing it to know it. I was standing 
under one of the large larches in Forest Lawn when I 
heard sharp, vibratory call notes, much resembling 
those of the oriole, immediately followed by a w T arble 
of wonderful power, as clear, rich and ringing as that 
of the purple finch. My first thought was that it was 
the purple finch. And so very near ! Looking up I 
saw the little Orpheus in feathers, his bright crown 
glowing in the sunlight; his throat swelling as the 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. 21 

sweet notes welled out in wild rhythm, while his whole 
body vibrated in ecstasy at his own music. Instead of 
appearing disturbed at my presence, he seemed to 
understand that he was giving pleasure, for he poured 
out song after song, all the time coming down on the 
limbs, nearer and nearer, until I could have reached 
him with my hand. On leaving I only regretted my 
inability in some measure to reward the gifted minstrel 
for the rare entertainment he had given, making, as it 
did, the world brighter and better. 

. The Hudsonian sparrow {Junco hiemalis) arrived here 
several days ago. Although few in number, they are 
conspicuous by their rich color and peculiar markings. 
The back is a dark slate, almost blue black, while the 
lower part of the body, and also the bill, are nearly 
white. The lateral quills in the tail are w x hite, and show 
in flight much like those of the grass finch. They gen- 
erally make their appearance in the morning, coming 
in small flocks during the night. They choose ravines, 
thick copses, hedges, or other sheltered places, during 
this weather, but those that do not go farther north 
for the summer will soon separate in pairs to begin nest 
building. Until recently these sparrows have not been 
credited with remaining through the summer in any 
considerable numbers as far south as this, but I have 
found their nests in several different counties in Central 
and Western New York, though generally in cooler. 
damper regions. Here they often raise two broods in 
a season, sometimes three. Their nests are placed on 
the ground ,and are always models in form and finish. 



22 HIGHWAYS AKD BYWAYS. 

and lined with fine hair or other soft material. These 
nests much resemble those of the oven bird, except the 
artificial covering, but they are always so placed in tus- 
socks, or on the side of knolls or banks, as to make a 
natural shelter that will completely hide from view the 
sitting birds. They have somehow learned that their 
conspicuous color makes this precaution necessary, while 
the neutral or ground-colored sparrows nearly all nest 
in open places, their resemblance to the surroundings 
proving their natural safeguard. 

The common song of the junco is merely a succession 
of clear, tinkling notes like the rhythmic clinking of 
pieces of silver. I have also occasionally heard it 
indulge in a low warble, always pleasing, because unex- 
pected. The Hudsonian sparrow has almost as many 
local names as the "flicker." Among them are "slate 
sparrow," from its color; "black chippy," from its 
chirping notes so similar to those of the chipping bird ; 
and "snow bird," from its occasional appearance in 
company with the snow-bunting in midwinter. 

The latter part of March small flocks of cedar birds 
(Ampelis cedrorum) put in a brief appearance. They 
were evidently on a tour of inspection, "spying out the 
land," as they soon returned south to await milder days 
and a better supply of food before settling for the sum- 
mer. They are readily recognized by the tuft of crown 
feathers or "top-not;" and also by the little scarlet 
beads upon the wing feathers, resembling bits of red 
sealing wax. They are hardly classed among the sing- 
ing birds, but their presence adds a charm to the sur- 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. 23 

roundings. Elegant in form and graceful in motion, 
with a plumage of soft, rich groundwork delicately 
tinted with brighter hues, these birds well harmonize 
with the fruits and flowers with which they are so often 
associated, for, although usually insectivorous, they eat 
more or less of ripe cherries, and also petals of blossoms, 
especially those of the red maple and hawthorn. They 
call attention to their presence by a faint lisping note 
unlike that of any other bird. They also indulge in a 
little warble so low as seldom to be noticed, except by 
the attentive ear. These pretty creatures are very gen- 
tle and affectionate among themselves, going about in 
little flocks and caressing and feeding one another like 
the turtle doves. If one of a pair is caught the other 
will allow itself to be taken also, rather than leave its 
imprisoned mate. These birds were formerly plentiful 
and very tame, but, to a great extent, they have shared 
the fate of so many others of bright plumage. 

The present general discussion of this subject must 
necessarily eventuate in wiser dealings with these 
friends and better protection of them. Sensible women 
are quite generally discarding these unbecoming deco- 
rations. A change in public sentiment is apparent. A 
conversation I recently overheard between two little 
girls on the subject was a hopeful sign and worth 
noting. A sweet-faced little nine-year-old girl, seeing 
one of these ornaments on the hat of her companion, 
asked her why she wore it. " O ! it is so pretty," she 
answered; "but/ 5 said the first, "would it not be much 
prettier alive, in a tree where it could sing?" 



24 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

April 17. — Langille says: "Not many hours earlier 
or later than April 7th we hear the vesper "sparrow 
{Poocetes gramineus\ and almost at the same hour they 
are here in great numbers ; and throughout our latitude 
the fields and pastures are everywhere enlivened by 
their appearance." My experience is that April weather 
has much to do in determining the day of the arrival of 
this species, as well as of many others. This year none 
of them w x ere here before the 11th, and then only in 
limited numbers. Some years you may not hear one in 
this vicinity before April 20th, while in other seasons 
the latter part of March may bring them. A record in 
my note-book for fifteen years gives the middle of April 
as the average date. As remarked in a former paper, 
the weather has much to do in hastening or delaying 
the arrival of the earlier migrants, just as it has on the 
opening of the first wild flowers. But early or late in 
coming, the presence in any considerable numbers of 
these delightful birds brings glad tidings and a promise, 
not often broken, of real spring weather. They are not 
like the song sparrows, cheerful amid snow and sleet, 
singing with the weather at zero, but delight rather in 
the genial days of spring and summer. In other char- 
acteristics these two bear a close resemblance. They 
are about the same size and shape, and much the same 
general color. The vespers are a little lighter gray, 
less rufus on the back, and not so strongly marked. 
They have the distinguishing feature of two or three 
white lateral tail quills, which show plainly when they 
fly. They are less city birds in summer than the melo- 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. 25 

dia. but are more plentiful in grassy fields and along 
country highways, where they are particularly musical 
on warm, cloudy days and just at dusk. The songs of 
the melodia and gramineus differ in continuity and 
time; in other respects their similarity makes it diffi- 
cult for many persons to distinguish the one from the 
other. The theme of the song sparrow is broken, and 
consists of from three to five bars or strains; that of 
the vesper is continuous, the notes beginning slowly, 
but rapidly accelerating in time until near the close, 
when the song diminishes in volume, the last notes 
becoming almost inaudible. The vesper sparrows are 
classed among the ecstatic singers, as they pour out the 
notes in the same fervent manner as do the veeries and 
quavering, or field sparrows. They are gregarious and 
sociable even during the nesting season, several pairs 
generally living in the same immediate neighborhood. 
At twilight their concerts are a delightful feature of coun- 
try life. One will sing his sweet, though somewhat 
plaintive song, then another will take up the strain, 
and perhaps another and another, until half a dozen or 
more will be engaged in this vesper service, making 
almost a continuous strain of melody. These sparrows, 
unlike most of the family, usually nest in open places, 
making a carefully constructed nest on the ground in a 
little excavation without any cover or shelter. Perhaps 
this is a cunning ruse to deceive the little animals t hat- 
go about nights probing around every tussock and 
hillock in quest of eggs and young birds. We know 
this clever bird, when scared from the nest, will run 



26 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

very rapidly a few steps, and then fall and flutter along 
as though wounded until she has drawn the intruder 
from the nest, when she will suddenly arise and fly to 
a safe retreat, uttering as she goes a complaining note 
much like that of the song sparrow. I have found a 
few of these nests in brush heaps, and also in low, thick 
bushes. This sparrow is perhaps of tener known by the 
name of grass finch or bay-winged bunting. 

April 14th T heard both the white-throated sparrows 
(Zonotrichia albicollis) and the white-crowned (Zono- 
trichia leucojphrys). It was a surprise, as these spar- 
rows are seldom seen in this neighborhood before the 
latter part of this month. During the spring and fall 
migrations these beautiful species are abundant. In 
spring they remain several days, singing very sweetly 
in the sunny mornings. In their breeding haunts 
farther north, they are said to sing in all kinds of 
w r eather, but I have never heard them sing here except- 
ing on the pleasantest days. Their songs are simple 
but very pleasing. That of the wiiite-throated consists 
of six or seven clearly whistled notes, in quality resem- 
bling those of the chicadee, but there are more of them 
and of greater variety. 

The song of the white-crowned is peculiar. It begins 
with a clear, though subdued whistle, and ends with 
three or four detached, bell-like notes, unique but very 
delightful. If in sight these sparrows are easily identi- 
fied by their conspicuous markings. The leucophrys 
has a white crown with black lines, the white meeting 
at the nape of the neck, and the black at the base of the 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. 27 

upper mandible. The albicollis has a black crown with 
white lateral lines, the black meeting at the back of the 
head, and the white in front. Both have white bars 
across the wings. The albicollis has also a pure white 
throat, w r ith yellow on the edge of the wings, and also 
bright yellow lines from the bill to the eye. The other 
is without this brilliant yellow. These sparrows are 
often found in company, both in the spring and fall 
migrations. 

April 24. — Not another sound in nature is so clear 
and joyous, so full of cheer and hearty greeting, as that 
of the highhole or golden-winged woodpecker {Colaptes 
auratus). The call is a musical " ha ! ha ! ha ! " full of 
laughter and good fellowship, a most friendly spring 
greeting, in keeping with the pleasant April days in 
w 7 hich one will first hear it. These few hearty notes 
are something like the resonant call notes which we 
first hear from the robin, and if not singing, these 
utterances are as sweet as a song, and should entitle the 
bird to be classed with the oscines. A few r days later, 
when the preparations for housekeeping begin, these 
birds have a more subdued laughter, just as joyous per- 
haps, but less loud and boisterous. Sometimes two or 
three couples of them will play " hide and seek " around 
the branches or trunks of the trees, and say " yarrup, 
wake up ; yarrup, w r ake up," with a rapidity not easily 
transcribed, indulging at the same time in much other 
small talk understood only by themselves. Many times 
I have lain under the trees watching their playful 



28 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

maneuvers and listening to the delightful pleasantries, 
feeling that man is not the only animal endowed with 
conversational powers. 

Not long since I spent half a forenoon watching the 
interesting performance of one of these most royal of 
birds on the chapel by Scajaquacla Creek. He was 
on the iron-covered chimney, and hammering away on 
the sheet iron. He would stop a minute and listen for 
a response, then call loudly in his clear, mellow voice, 
and hammer away again on his fine sounding board. 
He knew he had " a good thing," and he kept posses- 
sion of it most the forenoon. When I approached too 
near he would get behind the chimney and " wake up, 
wake up " to let me know he was not asleep. Some- 
times these " golden wings " will find an old tin pan in 
a pasture to hammer upon. 

We have few more useful, interesting and beautiful 
birds than these, which, although classed with the 
woodpeckers, have few of the characteristics of that 
family. They associate principally with the robins, 
and pass less time in the trees than on the ground, 
where they obtain most of their food, which to a large 
extent consists of ants and their eggs. Although nat- 
urally tame and confiding, they are very sagacious, and 
have learned to put themselves on the opposite side of 
the trunk or branches of the trees when menaced with 
the guns of sportsmen. The highholes are about a foot 
in length, with a plumage rich and brilliant. The back 
and upper sides of their wings are a dark umber trans- 
versely streaked with black. The under parts of the 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. 29 

body are white and pale yellow, with black, heart- 
shaped spots. A broad collar of jet black separates the 
throat and breast, while a crimson crescent ornaments 
the back of the head, and reaches to the eye. The 
under sides of the wings and tail and also all the quill 
shafts are a bright golden yellow. 

For nesting places they generally select a dry stub or 
the decayed top of a live tree, chisel out a circular hole 
a few inches horizontally, and then work downward a 
foot or more, excavating a cavity large enough at the 
bottom to contain the brood of five or six young birds ; 
six is the usual number. The nest is placed from five 
to fifty feet from the ground, according to convenience. 
I have seen them in stumps and also in the boles of 
apple trees within reach of the hand. I remember a 
large beech that stood just on the edge of my father's 
woods. The tree had limbs nearly all the way up its 
trunk. A few feet from the top was dead, and in this 
decayed part, just under the node of a broken limb, 
and at least fifty feet from the ground, a pair of high- 
holes excavated a nest which they used for four consec- 
utive years. I say the same pair, for I easily recognized 
both of the birds, and used to watch with much interest 
for their annual return. Probably every day during 
the four years from the time the first egg was deposited 
till the young birds flew away, I climbed to the 
nest to examine the state of affairs and see how the 
family was getting along. The old birds, shy at first, 
became accustomed to my daily visits, and soon showed 
very little concern about my presence, and both would 



30 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

come and feed the young while I was standing on a 
limb but a few feet below them. The two alternated 
in excavating the place for the nest, and both assisted 
in clearing it out each spring. All chips and refuse 
were carried away, that they might not betray the 
neighborhood of the nest. The male often brought 
food to his mate, although he took his place on the 
nest when she was away. The whole family, old and 
young, remained in the neighborhood and in company, 
and at the fall migration went south together. The 
fourth summer, just before the young birds were able 
to fly, a boy in the neighborhood shot one of the old 
ones, and the other continued the care of the brood. 
The tree was never again occupied as a nesting place. 
I have long been satisfied that several species of our 
song birds not only mated for the season, but for life. 
Such was certainly the case with this pair. Dr. C. C. 
Abbott, in a late charming book, " Waste Land 
"Wanderings," devotes several pages to this interesting 
subject, being convinced from long and careful observa- 
tion that many birds remain mated as long as both 
live. 

Another interesting summer resident in this region 
is the Savanna sparrow {Passer cuius Savanna). They 
make their appearance in this latitude about the middle 
of April and remain until October. These sparrows 
are not so plentiful nor so generally distributed as the 
song or vesper sparrows, bat, like certain plants, they 
seem to have their favorite localities to which they are 
much attached. There are whole townships in which 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. 31 

you may not find one, while other neighborhoods 
abound with them. They seem to prefer stretches of 
level country, especially newly seeded meadows. They 
are plentiful on Buffalo Plains and at the Driving Park, 
and one frequently hears them along Chapin and Bid- 
well Parkways. The song is something like that of 
the song sparrow, and may easily be mistaken for a 
poor effort of this species. - The time and divisions of 
the strains are similar, but the quality of the tone is 
entirely different, the notes of the one being clear and 
liquid, while those of the other are thin, stridulous and 
insect like. If you mistake it for that of the song 
sparrow it will prove disappointing, and you will think 
it a young bird, or one having a cold. Many people 
call all the sparrows " ground birds," just as they call 
all the little wood flowers " violets." This term would 
be appropriate for the Savanna, for it is pre-eminently a 
ground bird, as it feeds and nests on the ground, and 
remains most of the time in the grass. It seldom 
alights on a tree, never, as far as I' have observed, 
amid the green foliage, but sings on the ground or from 
its low perch on the fence, or on a stone heap. While 
driving along Bid well Parkway one day last week I 
had an excellent opportunity of comparing the songs 
of several species of sparrows, as the vespers, Hudson- 
ians, Savannas and song sparrows were singing and in 
hearing at the same time. The gramineus, four or live 
in number, in the elms by the roadside, were the more 
conspicuous, each one in turn taking a solo as another 
finished. Two or three melodias sang the interlude. 



32 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

while the Savannas, like tinkling cymbals, and the 
Hudsonians, the triangles, made the accompaniment. 

May 1. — The purple finches, or American linnets 
(Carjjodacus purpureus), are somewhat irregular in their 
spring migrations. A few usually put in an appear- 
ance early in March, but most of them come several 
weeks later. Before the leaves start, or the early -trees 
blossom, they are just as irregular in their habits of 
singing. There are few birds endowed with greater 
musical capabilities than the linnets; yet, like other 
eminent artists, their singing is often variable and capri- 
cious. There is something very queer and interesting 
about their varied musical performances. Hidden in 
the leafy branches of the trees by the roadside, or near 
dwellings, their low warbles are as sweet and peaceful 
as those of the warbling vireos, which they much 
resemble ; but, perched conspicuously on the topmost 
twig of a tree, they indulge in a much more ambitious 
carol, louder and of several bars. The two songs are so 
entirely different in theme and execution that one not well 
acquainted with their songs might easily believe them 
to emanate from birds of different species. Sometimes 
one will chant the song for an hour without moving 
from his perch. On the wing, and especially at mating 
time, these birds have a still finer song, more brilliant, 
vehement and rapturous. I remember one of these 
remarkable performances, and at its best. I heard the 
two or three call notes of the finches, and immediately 
two birds flew from a tree near which I was standing, 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. 66 

both in full song. Their flight was at first downward and 
very rapid, but when within a few feet of the earth 
they began to ascend, first one above, then the other, 
up, up, as we may suppose the skylarks mount, all the 
time singing so loud and with such vehement fervor 
that the whole field seemed filled with melody. It was 
a trial of flight as well as of song ; of speed and physi- 
cal endurance as well as of musical capabilities. The 
cause was soon manifest. A female sat demurely in the 
tree from which the others flew, evidently the prize for 
which so glorious a contest was carried on. When the 
two rivals came again in sight she joined them, and the 
three flew to another part of the field. The result to 
me was unknown, but the contest of flight and of song- 
how much better weapons than pistols or slander or 
gold! I am satisfied tha£ in singing these different 
themes the birds have a particular object in view, for 
birds as well as men are actuated by motive. Those 
mentioned first, the quiet warblings, are not to attract 
attention, but for the singer's own gratification. The 
second, one judges from the conspicuous position of the 
birds, are given to attract others of the family, probably 
in most cases the females, while the songs uttered on 
the wing are generally the contests of rivals. 

The male purple finch in full plumage is very attract- 
ive in appearance, having much crimson on the head, 
shoulders and throat, and considerable paler red .on dif- 
ferent parts of the body. Burroughs says : " Tt looks 
as though it had been dipped in cokeberry juice," but 
the color is too light for that and not uniformly enough 



34 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

distributed. The amount of red and the shades of it 
differ greatly in different individuals, but in none is it 
purple, as the name would indicate. Stearns says this 
name was erroneously applied from the faulty coloring 
of some early plates, but it would seem that one ought 
never to name a bird without knowing personally at 
least its physical characteristics. The young males, 
the first year, and sometimes the second, lack the bright 
markings, and are plainly clad, like the females. If not 
singing they may easily be mistaken for sparrows, 
which they considerably resemble both in color and 
manner of flight. 

The linnets are quite irregularly distributed, being 
plentiful in some neighborhoods, when there are few or 
none in others adjoining. Evergreens and certain fruit 
trees very likely have something to do with this unequal 
distribution, as they are partial to spruce, balsam and 
pine for nesting and hiding places, while the pear, 
cherry and hawthorn provide both vegetable and insect 
food. The linnets are fond of the pistils and stamens 
of the elms ; and they undoubtedly eat some of the buds 
and flower organs of the fruit trees, thereby incurring 
the enmity of many farmers, w T ho wage an extermi- 
nating war upon them. If the truth could be known it 
would be found that they never thin out the flowers 
sufficiently to cause the loss of any considerable quan- 
tity of fruit, and that for every quart destroyed they 
make it possible for ten times that number of bushels to 
grow. So little do we appreciate the services of our 
friends ! Last summer I visited a fruit grower whose 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. OO 

boys were shooting the warbling vireos, supposing them 
to be purple finches from the resemblance of their sing- 
ing. I trust my explanations saved the remaining 
vireos, and to some extent lessened in the boys' estima- 
tion the imaginary offenses of the finches. 

The arrival of the vivacious American gold finches is 
welcomed by all who like bright color and cheerful 
voices. Though loaded down with scientific names, the 
latest, (Spinus tristis\ they remain the same sunny 
optimists, accepting life as a boon and not a burden. 
Th^ir cheerfulness is contagious and their presence 
seems to light up the surroundings like the sunshine. 
They are gems in color and proportion. Their motions 
are peculiarly graceful, and whether in their undulatory 
billowy flight, or hanging head downward from the 
feathery top of a pasture thistle, every movement is the 
very " poetry of motion." 

The other day while walking in the edge of a woods 
in search of the hepatica, I suddenly became conscious 
that a whirlwind of bright feathers and happy voices 
was over my head in the branches of a spreading maple. 
The tree had suddenly become alive with a chattering, 
musical foliage, more brilliant than the colored leaves 
that dropped from it last autumn. It was like the 
" talking oaks of Dodona." A flock of at least fifty 
gold finches were taking possession of it, and a livelier, 
merrier, noisier tree-top one never saw. They were 
moving from branch to branch, continually changing 
places like the colors in a kaleidoscope, and singing, 
talking or calling at the same time. The tumult was 



36 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

like that of a hundred little wicker cages of canaries 
suddenly uncovered by a bird fancier. Where did they 
come from? Ten minutes before none were there. 
Ten minutes later they were gone again. They were 
the first that I had seen this spring, and the few 
minutes that I watched them seemed to jump the cal- 
endar from April to the middle of summer. This 
habit of congregational singing seems to belong partic- 
ularly to the gold finches. ]STone of the other oscines 
indulge in it to any extent. The concert of the black- 
birds is merely a recital. 

The yellow birds generally remain in flocks until 
near the middle of summer, when they separate in pairs 
to begin nesting. Then a " new song is put into their 
mouths." The solos commence, and are entirely differ- 
ent from the choruses of the early season. After this 
time, one associates them with the purple thistles of 
the pastures, the silky pods of the milkweeds by the 
country roads, and the waving fields of flax with blue 
blossoms and shining seed bolls. 

The gold finches follow civilization, and are found 
sparingly in newly settled parts of the country, and 
not beyond the frontier. 

With the exceptions of the cedar birds they are the 
latest in the season to nest, seldom beginning till 
Julv, when the leaves are thickest. Building materials 
are then more plentiful, and the soft, milky seeds, 
most suitable for the young, are more easily qbtained. 
Last year at Portage I found a brood of half -fledged 
birds the 20th day of September. In the city, 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. 61 

probably a majority of the empty nests, disclosed 
by the falling of the leaves in autumn, are those 
of the gold finches. These are more frequently in 
the smaller maples, and are fastened in the forks of 
slender branches. 

"We have few handsomer birds ; the male is lemon 
color on the upper part of the body, a little paler 
beneath ; the crown is jet black ; the wings and tail 
are also nearly black, the former streaked, and the lat- 
ter spotted with white. The female lacks the bright 
yellow, but is olive green, with many markings. One 
peculiarity of the gold finches is the undulating flight 
in long graceful curves; at each rise of which they 
utter a few soft musical notes like " we teeter, we teeter." 
They have a great variety of songs, none brilliant, but 
all sweet and pleasing. They have also many calls or 
conversational notes, much like those of the canaries, 
which in many respects they resemble. 

Until millions of these innocent creatures fell a prey 
to the murdering plumage gatherers, they were very 
tame and confiding, and showed little fear of man. I 
have picked many a one from the head of a thistle or 
sunflower Avhile it was eating the seeds, and after a 
minute or two when I let it go, it seldom showed itself 
much disturbed by such transient captivity. On one 
occasion the little creature immediately returned to the 
sunflower, when I captured it a second time. 

Close to the house stood a small black cherry tree. 
Three years in succession a pair of these birds nested 
in it. I am confident it was the same pair — at least 

3 



38 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

the same female — as she showed so little fear at the 
frequent visits I made to the nest each year. It was 
necessary to bend the tree considerably in order to see 
into the nest. After the first summer the sitting bird 
would seldom fly off until the tree was bent so far that 
she was afraid of sliding off the nest. Sometimes she 
would not then move, but would look at me out of her 
fearless eyes, as much as to say, " You dare not upset 
me and spill us all out ; my house is not on exhibition 
to-day, you will have to come another time." Of course 
I did as I understood her to command, and left her 
mistress of the situation. 

Although late comers in the spring, the vireos, or 
greenlets, are great favorites of all lovers of the birds. 
Of the five or six species found in the State only two, 
the red eyed and warbling, are abundant in this local- 
ity. The red eyed vireo ( Vireo olivaceous) is classed 
among the true sylvias or forest birds, but he is oftener 
found near clearings, and is becoming quite a summer 
resident in the cities, especially the sections abounding 
in large trees. He is a persistent singer, but sings most 
in the middle of hot days, when other birds are com- 
paratively silent. He has a variety of songs, — or notes 
rather, — as they are much detached, all uttered leisurely, 
and many of them with the rising inflection, as though 
questioning his auditory. Not a great musician, yet 
his cheerful voice ringing its many changes on the few 
rather sharp notes makes him a cheerful companion, 
singing and talking and feeding among the leaves of 
the tree above one. Samuels enthusiastically writes of 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. 39 

him: "Of all my feathered acquaintances this is my 
favorite. I always loved it, and I can never look upon 
one after it is killed without a sad feeling, as if it were 
one of my own dear friends dead before me." The nests 
of all the vireos are exquisitely fashioned, pensile, but 
not swinging. 

The warbling vireos ( Vireo gilvus) are common in the 
city in summer, and are most excellent singers; still, 
perhaps, they are less known by people in general than 
most any other summer resident. They are small and 
inconspicuous in color, and their low, sweet voices do 
not catch the unlistening ear. They arrive with the 
thrushes in May, and distribute themselves freely in 
cities and villages, where they find abundant food in 
larvae and small insects on leaves of the shade trees. Of 
all our city birds, the songs of the warbling vireos yield 
me the purest and most exquisite pleasure. They mean 
peace and joy and glad tidings. However worried with 
business cares, or disturbed in other relations, I am 
immediately put on good terms with surroundings by 
this little optimist with the voice of an angel. That 
soft, peaceful warble overhead among the green 
branches, floating down in waves of melody, makes the 
earth purer and brighter, and lifts the heart into the 
regions of sunlight, awakening in the mind the kind- 
est thoughts towards all creatures. Thoreau caught 
the inspiration of the song and wrote : 

"Upon the lofty elm tree sprays 

The vireo sings the changes sweet 
During the sultry summer days, 

Lifting men's thoughts above the street." 



40 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

Coues, generally only technical in his description of 
the oscines, is impelled to unbend in his treatment of 
this minstrel, and says : " Not another bird can rival 
the tenderness and softness of the liquid strains of this 
modest vocalist. Not born to ' waste its sweetness on 
the desert air,' the warbling vireo forsakes the depths 
of the woodland for the parks and orchards and shady 
streets, where it glides through the foliage of the tallest 
trees, the unseen messenger of rest and peace to the 
busy, dusty haunts of men." 

The lengthened days of May bring back those match- 
less singers, the wood thrush and veery. Though late 
in their spring arrival, their seasons of song are longer 
than many that come earlier, often extending till late 
into August. 

The wood thrushes {Turdus mustelinus) are quite 
generally distributed throughout the States, and are 
everywhere recognized as among the best of our wood- 
land choristers. Probably no other sound quite equals 
in sweetness and purity of tone the best notes of this 
bird. If he only would combine the notes and strains 
into a theme or continuous song, like that of the ves- 
per sparrow or bobolink, the music would surpass that 
of any other living creature. The notes are detached 
and the strains broken, and often preluded and inter- 
luded with guttural clucks like those of the redwing. 
We know him at his best at a distance, as we then get 
only the pure tones that have made him such a favorite. 
One charm of his singing is his habit of warbling the 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. 41 

bars in different keys. Longfellow must have had in 
his mind the wood thrush : 

" Whose household words are sung in many keys, 
Sweeter than instruments of man's ere caught; 
Whose habitation in the tree-tops even 
Are half-way houses on the road to Heaven." 

The wood thrush, artist that he is, is partial to 
the upland groves and wooded hillsides. He also seems 
to love best forests in which beech and maple predom- 
inate. He is occasionally heard in the city, but at such 
times the voice is generally a surprise ; it comes to the 
ear unexpectedly, and the listener is at a loss to place 
the singer. It is like meeting an old acquaintance 
whose face one knows so well, but for the instant can- 
not place. Then follows the delight at the recognition. 
A year ago I heard one sing on Niagara Square, 
in the heart of the city. It was in a spreading elm 
opposite the "Fillmore House." As I stopped to listen, 
several other pedestrians came along and halted, also to 
hear or get a sight of the stranger. This bird of gentle 
breeding seemed in no way abashed at the sight of the 
increased audience, and continued to sing until the 
barking of a dog under the tree disturbed him. One 
astonished and delighted listener asked me if "it was 
really a nightingale." I remember another surprise 
that haunted my mind pleasantly for days after. Early 
one morning, while sitting on the wall beside the wind- 
ing and picturesque road that connects Cliff Avenue 
with the wooded portion of Forest Lawn, I was startled 
by the gurgling trill, then the clear "chil-a-dee-de," 



42 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

of a wood thrush just over my head. This was followed 
by nearly the same syllables, fuller and on a lower key. 
The song was immediate^ taken up by another thrush 
across the creek, and still a third further north, but in 
the Lawn. It was a glorious concert and in harmony 
with the peaceful surroundings. But how came these 
birds to be in this Lawn so far away from any extended 
woods, and three of them together ? Had they selected 
that soft June day for an excursion? There would 
seem to have been method in the arrangement, as sel- 
dom more than one is heard singing in so open a place, 
and so far from any considerable piece of woods. 

The veeries [Tardus fucescens) are not so equally dis- 
tributed as the wood thrushes. They are more retiring, 
and seek low, rather than the high, wooded lands, prob- 
ably because insects are more plentiful in such localities. 
Unlike others of the family, they are somewhat grega- 
rious in their summer haunts. You will seldom find 
them singly, or even in pairs, but if there be one, several 
will be in the same localit}^. 

The song of one is nearly always taken up by another 
in the neighborhood, and sometimes a dozen or more 
will join in the concert — not in chorus, but each waiting 
till the other has finished before beginning his solo. 
The song of the veery, or Wilson's thrush, although 
lacking the pure, flute-like notes of the wood thrush, is 
a continuous strain, fervid, ecstatic, very sweet, and of 
great power. There is a touch of wild weirdness not 
heard in any other strain. These few vibrating reed- 
like notes are repeated, and sometimes seemingly rolled 



SPRING ARRIVAL OF THE BIRDS. 43 

over one another in such a manner as to make the song 
far-reaching and very effective. No other sound so 
hallows the woods, and places where I find these artists 
congregated, if within reach, I visit again and again. 

It seems curious that a bird voice will sometimes fill 
so large a place in the memory, to the exclusion of 
other things that would appear to be much more prom- 
inent. In a carriage journey of several hundred miles, 
no other places or events were so stamped on my mind 
as two pieces of woodland, in which the veeries were 
abundant and unusually tuneful. On the return we 
went many miles out of our way to stay one night in 
the vicinity to hear their morning and evening songs. 
Oliver Wendell Holmes, in speaking of the objects of 
interest enjoyed at Windsor Castle, says that none 
others so stirred his heart with pleasurable emotions as 
the hawthorn trees in blossom, and the notes of an 
English cuckoo in the Park. " Of all I saw and heard 
there, the two notes of the cuckoo will survive all other 
memories." 

The bobolinks (Dolichonyx oryzivorus) make their 
appearance in this latitude early in May, some of them 
even in April, but these earlier comers show by their 
disconsolate manner that their surroundings are not yet 
congenial. They are summer birds and need their nat- 
ural accessories, meadows of waving timothy, and green 
pastures flecked with the gold of buttercups. A coun- 
try meadow without this cheerful, conspicuous singer 
in buff and black, would be like the big, brown country 
barn without its twittering swallow about its eaves and 



44 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

gables, lacking its greatest charm and most fitting 
adornment. In the northern States the bobolink fills 
the place that the skylark does in Europe. Their songs 
considerably resemble each other; both are ecstatic 
singers, and both sing poised on the wing. The bobo- 
link, however, sings also at rest, and never mounts to such 
heights in the air as the lark does. He sometimes starts 
the song while in flight, and finishes it from a perch on 
a bush or tree. Always nervous and active, and never 
quiet but for a minute at a time, he seems to get equal 
enjoyment in flight and in song. The bobolinks are 
pre-eminently birds of the open country, yet one need 
not necessarily go beyond the city to find them. They 
appear occasionally in the Park Meadow, where they 
and the meadow larks might become plentiful if it were 
not for the early mowing of the grass, which prevents 
their nesting in the meadow. But any pleasant day 
from May till August you can hear them singing in the 
fields just north of Jewett Avenue, where their presence 
still preserves a pastoral appearance to that delightful 
suburb. Several pairs nested in the vicinity last sum- 
mer. My only regret at seeing those pretty houses 
multiply so rapidly in that inviting section is the 
thought that each new house will diminish the number 
of singers in those delightful afternoon concerts which 
I so frequently attend. 



A DAY'S OUTING IN 

SEARCH OF THE ARBUTUS. 



Here, underneath the snow, a flower 
Is waiting for an April hour 
To come, with blithe and balmy breeze 
And blow the spring across the leas 
A robin's song, or bubbling note 
Of music from a bluebird's throat, 
Will bid it put its dreams away, 
And say good morning to the May. 

We need not see the flower to know 
What time Arbutus blossoms blow ; 
For every wind that tuanders here 
Will tell the tidings far and near ; 
A breath of fragrance, like a thought 
That haunts you, but will not be caught 
In words that fit the subject well ; 
Who shall describe the subtle spell ; 
The pink Arbutus blossoms bring, 
To weave about the world in spring ? 

Ebek E. Kexford. 



A DAY'S OUTING IN SEARCH OF THE ARBUTUS. 



If in any year I let April and May go by without 
taking a day's outing, in search of the trailing arbutus 
{Epigea repens), it is ever after a cause of regret. This 
characteristic New England plant, known better by the 
name the pilgrims gave it, Mayflower, is found in abund- 
ance at Olean, Portville and Salamanca, and sparingly 
at North Collins and Portage. To enjoy the flower 
most, one need not get it in large quantities. A few 
sprigs gathered in its natural habitat are better than 
bushels bought at the market. It seems as much out 
of place in a flower store or greenhouse as a wood- 
thrush in an aviary or in the den of a bird fancier. 
Both need the accessories of their wild surroundings. 
By selecting Portage as the field to be explored, one 
was sure to renew the acquaintance of many of the rarer 
and more interesting birds. The clay chosen was a per- 
fect one. A warm shower the night before 'had laid the 
dust and freshened the grass, which seemed a brighter 
green by being dotted by so many golden dandelions 
wide open to the sun. The buds on the earlier trees 
were just bursting into leaf, and were of such various 
shades that the different kinds of trees could easily be 
distinguished. Cherry and shad trees were already 



48 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

arrayed in white, and contrasted pleasantly with the 
moose-wood and spice bushes, with their jackets of yel- 
low. As the cars went by the patches of woods, the 
trilliums showed their white cups, and the erythroniums 
nodded gracefully amid their spotted leaves. Thrifty 
bunches of cowslips, or marsh marigolds, in the wet 
meadows were crowned with shining yellow blossoms, 
and women were picking the bitter but palatable leaves 
for greens, bearing Portage, one could readily see the 
effects of the greater altitude in the more backward 
foliage, especially that of the oaks. The cars had 
hardly left the station at Portage, when a pair of blue 
birds on the telegraph wires caroled a pleasant song. 
A Hudsonian sparrow in a lilac bush tinkled his silvery 
bell, while the mate sharply chirped her dissatisfaction 
at something going on wrong about them. The chirp- 
ing of these birds is quite different from that of other 
sparrows, and reveals their presence oftener than their 
songs. I have found several of their nests in this 
neighborhood. The English sparrows have taken pos- 
session of the evergreens in front of the hotel, and 
driven out the purple finches that for several years past 
have nested in the balsams. The finches, however, are 
in the groves v back of the house, and were merrily sing- 
ing during most of the day. The reel-eyed vireos, 
cheerful and loud, were talking to one another in the 
tree-tops, and one listening to their half questioning, 
half expostulatory musical discourse, could readily 
understand why Wilson Flagg called them the " Little 
Preachers." The softer, sweeter voices of the warbling 



A DAY'S OUTING IK SEARCH OF THE ARBUTUS. 49 

vireos were mingling with these louder strains. It was 
the first time I had heard them this spring, though 
every day since, I have heard their cheerful songs in 
the elms along the city streets. In the upper Letch- 
worth woods I occasionally hear the strange call of the 
white-eyed vireo. This call consists of three notes 
something like " it is queer," the last syllable strongly 
accented and much prolonged. The scarlet tanagers, 
that for several seasons past, by their beauty and sweet 
songs, have added such a charm to the surroundings, 
failed to come again this year. Probably some misera- 
ble taxidermist could tell, if he would, the cause of 
their detention. The grove back of the hotel had been 
explored by earlier arbutus gatherers, who had already 
picked and pulled up too much of these now rapidly 
disappearing plants. The lavish waste was apparent 
by the number of vines and half withered flowers 
scattered about in the track of the wasteful and 
thoughtless botanists. But I remembered some wild 
secluded nooks across the river unknown to most excur- 
sionists, where I was sure to find without difficulty all 
that I wished. Soon after dinner these retired nooks 
among the hemlocks and undergrowth of chestnuts were 
reached, and the sought treasures greeted us on every 
side, beautiful blossoms loading the air with a delicious 
fragrance, pleasing alike the senses of smell and sight. 
The arbutus is inimitably sweet, having a wild, 
woodsy fragrance, aromatic and spicy, strongest of 
birch and wintergreen, and suggestive of other more 
delicate odors not easily analyzed. 



50 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

" A breath of fragrance like a thought 
That haunts you, but will not be caught." 

Nothing can be prettier than the blossoms, somfe of 
which are bright pink, some nearly pure white, while 
others are as delicately tinted as a sea shell. The 
flowers are in axillary clusters. In some the stamens 
extend beyond the pistils, and in others the pistil pro- 
trudes farthest. Probably this arrangement is to assist 
the insects in cross fertilization. The bumble-bees 
seem partial to the arbutus, and on some knolls where 
the blossoms were most abundant these bees were so 
thick and noisy that my little daughter, who was with 
me, did not dare to pick the flowers. The stems and 
shining leaves, formed last summer, and the latter, 
green all winter under the snow, took in as they grew 
a food supply for their early blossoms, making it unnec- 
essary for them to wait so long in the spring for the 
elements of earth and air to be converted into flower 
organs. The hepaticas have this same ingenious device 
for putting forth so early their attractive blossoms. 

Near the clearing in the upper woods we came across 
a sandy knoll, the sunny side of which for a space of 
several yards was completely covered with the thrifty 
vines, all pink and white, and wonderfully sweet. The 
place had not been visited this spring, as the dry 7 leaves, 
beneath which many a bright cluster lay hidden, had 
not been disturbed. The little girl was wild with 
delight as treasure after treasure was revealed by the 
removal of the leaves, and I confess my sympathy with 
her when she knelt down and kissed them in their fra- 



a day's outing in search of the arbutus. 51 

grant bed and called them the " dear, blessed fairies of 
the woods." It was a sight to touch older hearts, and 
perhaps with a deeper feeling. I recalled the beautiful 
lines of the poet : 

" We'll brush the last year's leaves aside, 
And find where the shy blossoms hide, 
And talk with them. We need no words 
To tell our thoughts in. Winds and birds 
And flowers, and those who love them, find 
A language nature has designed 
For such companionship. And they 
Will tell us, each in its own way, 
Things sweet and strange — new, and yet old 
As earth itself, and yearly told. 
But there are men who have grown gray 
Among them, and have never heard 
The voice of any flowers, and they 
Laugh at men's friendship with a bird. 
But we know better, you and I, 
Dear little flower, beneath the snow : 
Let these most foolish wise men try — 
And fail — to prove it is not so." 

No other objects in inanimate nature touch so many 
hearts tenderly, like the actual presence of dear friends, 
as flowers. Not children alone, but men and women 
often look upon them as endowed with attributes not 
possessed by other inanimate objects. It does not seem 
out of place to talk to them any more than to talk to 
young children. A favorite flower found wild in a 
strange land drives away home-sickness and, like the 
song of a familiar bird, gives a feeling of companion- 
ship and content. The old nature-loving Greeks were 
not so far out of their reckoning when they endowed 
trees and flowers with attributes akin to those of men. 



52 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

Wordsworth says, "It is my faith that every flower 
which blows enjoys the air it breathes." Some late 
writers go farther, and have written books about the 
" Sagacity and Morality of Plants and Flowers." 

Besides the arbutus, there were in blossom the blue, 
yellow and white violets, — the last small but .quite fra- 
grant, — trilliums, erythroniums, dentarias, dicentras, 
cardamines, wild ginger, aralia-trifolia, hepaticas and 
anemones. Here the hepaticas are all trilobas, instead 
of acuti lobas, as they are in the neighborhood of Buf- 
falo. Many of them were very blue, and possessed an 
agreeable odor. One of the prettiest little blossoms 
found was the hen and chickens {Anemone thalictroides), 
as Gray calls it from the flower, and {Thalictrum ane- 
monoides), named by Wood from its thalictrum-like 
leaf. It is called " hen and chickens," as it has a hand- 
some white flower in the center, surrounded by several 
smaller ones which blossom later than the one in the 
center. Those acquainted with this region know how 
rich and varied are its flora and fauna. Later will 
come azaleas, pyrolas, sweet-scented crab, several species 
of wintergreen, including the beautiful flowering one 
with purple fringe, Mitchella, Clintonias, orchids, lady's 
slippers, fringed gentian, and many others. The rare 
and interesting birds are equally numerous. Within 
the radius of a hundred yards I have found the nests 
of six different species of thrushes. Among the war- 
blers here at present I noted the Blackburnian, black- 
throated green, black and yellow, yellow rumped, bay 
winged, chestnut sided, Canada and summer warblers. 



53 

At the upper end of the ravine whose banks we had 
been exploring, I stooped down to scrape away the dry- 
leaves that covered a patch of Mitchella repens. A 
small olive backed bird fluttered almost from beneath 
my hand, and half running, half flying, but apparently 
badly hurt, succeeded in making me attempt to pick her 
up. When I had followed a few yards, she took wing 
and glided gracefully away. I then knew what I 
should have known at first, that the cunuing bird was 
tolling me away from her nest. I went back and 
examined very carefully the place from which she had 
first appeared, but could find nothing. Marking the 
spot by tying together some twigs of a hemlock that 
overhung the place, I went away long enough for her 
to return. Approaching the place very cautiously, and 
keeping my eyes on the patch of Mitchella, I was within 
a step of the spot, when out again fluttered the bird 
with the same cunning tactics, this time, however, 
unsuccessful. I had no difficulty now in finding the 
nest, which was not only well hidden by some moss on 
a projecting root, but was dome-shaped and completely 
covered, with only an opening at the side large enough 
for the bird to enter and leave. It was the nest of the 
oven bird or golden-crowned thrush (Sciurus aurompil- 
lus\ and contained five very pretty eggs, with ground- 
work almost white and spotted with brown. The nest 
and eggs closely resemble those of the Hudsonian spar- 
row. The mate for some time had been singing near 
by, and his loud military song, " I see, I see, I see," had 
evidently been intended to prevent me from seeing 



54 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

what he and his mate had so prettily hidden. The bird 
was soon on her nest again, and I left her with sincere 
wishes for the safety of herself and her embryo-family. 
When not covered, the nest of the oven bird is often 
selected by the cow bunting in which to get its own 
little black brat incubated. The oven birds, like the 
summer warblers, are becoming wise in this matter, and 
many of them — not all — now roof over the nest, leav- 
ing the opening too small for the impostors to enter. 

In getting over a fence that separated the woods 
from a pasture lot, I was thrown to the ground by the 
breaking of a rail. A whirr of wings and a brown 
bird went with a complaining w^histle into the deeper 
woods. The flutter of her wings fanned my face, so 
near were we together. It was a partridge that had 
kept her place until I was nearly upon her, and, as I 
expected, she had been scared from her nest by the 
accident. At the root of a large beech by the fence 
was the uncovered nest with sixteen beautiful, speckled 
eggs. It was a sight to thrill with pleasure the heart 
of one athirst for the wild in nature, and the effects of 
the mishap were at once forgotten in the enjoyment of 
the pretty picture. The hurried leave-taking of the 
mistress of these treasures had scattered the leaves and 
feathers about and over the eggs, and in sympathy for 
her in the disturbance, I hurridly left the place that 
she might soon return. Several times during the day I 
had heard the drumming of the male from a thicket of 
bushes and young saplings near by, and before leaving 
the woods I visited the old mossy log that had been the 



a day's outinq in search of the arbutus. 55 

drumming place of partridges for several consecutive 
years. I was just in time to see the performer walk 
across a path a few feet from the log, and soon I heard 
his wings as he flew to another part of the woods. 
The drummer is a wary bird at these times, and one 
seldom gets a sight of him at his performance. ISTo 
other sound in nature, except, perhaps, the honking of 
wild geese as they fly northward or southward in their 
wedge-shaped flocks, so thrills me as the drumming of 
the partridge ; the sensations produced are undefinable, 
as the cause is unexplainable. Association may have 
much to do with it, as in these later years the sound 
always carries my thoughts back to the maple 
woods of the old homestead on the hillside, when this 
was the sweetest music that cheered the boys at their 
toilsome but wholesome sugar-making. Then I knew 
every drumming log for miles around, and every spring 
I kept watch and ward of at least a half dozen nests 
of these attractive birds. 

Who that loves nature can help loving the partridge ? 
not in the pot, but in the woods. It is such a hand- 
some bird, hardy and innocent, and as Thoreau says, 
"like a russet link extending over from autumn to 
spring, preserving unbroken the choir of summer/' If 
left unmolested for a few years what an added charm they 
would give to all the woods. They are not in any way 
trespassers on man's products. Why not let them alone 
in their forest retreats that ought to be sacred to them I 
I remember a brood that I had watched with boyish 
pride all summer; I had found the nest when there 



56 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

were but two eggs in it. Several times I had caught 
some of the little birds — there were nearly twenty, 
counting the old ones. I thought what a woods full of 
partridges we should have the next year, but in the fall, 
after the leaves fell, two pot hunters, with guns and 
bird dogs, visited the place, and before leaving they 
killed the entire brood of these pretty creatures. 
Every man who loves the fields and woods ought 
earnestly to protest against a further slaughter of 
grouse and quail in our nearly cleared country. 

Another favorite locality was yet to be explored. 
On the west side of this enchanted woods, a shaded 
highway separates it from a meadow. For some cause 
the arbutus still clings to this frontier. Here we found 
many patches of it in bud and blossom, and with it 
quantities of Gaultheria and Mitchella, with their shin- 
ing green leaves decorated with red berries. Flowers 
and berries were all uncovered, and in plain sight of 
any who might pass by. It seemed a little curious that 
they had not been disturbed, but it is fortunate for 
some of us that travelers do not always see the most 
attractive objects along the way. Perhaps those who 
have been along this road were actuated by the same 
feelings that caused us to leave most of these pretty 
flowers to sweeten the air about them. A pair of 
brown thrashers came skulking across the road, and 
perching on an old stump fence^ opposite, began scold- 
ing in tones so much resembling those of the tree toads. 
They will not sing until some days later, when the trees 
are in fuller leaf. 



a day's outing in search of the arbutus. 57 

While we were resting on a steep, mossy bank near 
the highway and railroad crossing, a Hudsonian spar- 
row appeared much disturbed at our prolonged stay, 
and chirped in that sharp tone peculiar to this sparrow. 
These birds were very plentiful near the home of my 
boyhood, and 1 knew well their " tricks and their 
manners,' 5 so I began at once to search for the cause of 
the disturbance. The female soon flew up from her 
nest in the side of the bank on which we had been sit- 
ting. The four eggs, beautiful as pearls, with pure 
white groundwork thickly dotted with brown, were 
rounder than the eggs of other sparrows. The nests, 
too, excel in workmanship and material those of any 
others of the genus. This nest was deep, and thickly 
lined with the softest of materials — a gem of architect- 
ure. A flat stone half a foot square, and held in place 
by an oak root, projected over the entrance to the nest, 
forming a perfect veranda, and completely shielding it 
from rain and shine. Fortunate, indeed, the little birds 
to be cradled in such a " lap of luxury ! " These slate- 
colored juncos are conspicuous by their many white quills 
and feathers, and by their flesh-colored feet and bills. 

The lengthened shadows reminded us that there were 
other haunts of old acquaintances nearer the hotel yet 
to be visited. Among them were two pairs of phebes 
that have nested in the hotel barn for several years 
past. They have been intimate acquaintances, and I 
have watched them many a day from a seat in the 
spacious and pleasant old barn. None of them had yet 
returned. Last summer a young man, to show his am- 



58 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

ning in the use of a whip, struck one of these birds, 
when it came in to feed the young, and killed it. The 
other three continued the care of the two broods of 
young birds until they were able to take care of them- 
selves ; but they may have taken warning by such a 
brutal breach of confidence and concluded to go else- 
where hereafter. They will have at least one old friend 
who will continue to look for their return, and take note 
of the outcome. 

Last year a pair of chipping birds had a nest in the 
woodbine on the piazza, the east side of the hotel. It 
had been a pleasure to sit under the vine and watch 
the old birds feed the young. I had been with them 
so much that they paid little more attention to my 
presence than they did to the old apple tree that stood 
so near them. I could hardly expect them again this 
year, as the perils of migration prevent the return of 
the larger half of the birds that went south in the fall ; 
but on going to look, I found them building a nest in 
the same place that they used last year. I think they 
recognized me as an old acquaintance, for they came 
with material and arranged it several times while I 
stood close by watching them. 

The woodbine on the veranda of the summer cottage, 
not yet occupied, contained two robins' nests, one with 
three and the other four eggs. Nothing is prettier than 
these bluish green eggs with their future possibilities. 
One would be glad to know that they will remain 
unmolested until the metamorphosis that will make 
glad the heart of the mother birds. 



Just before dusk I was much interested in the sing- 
ing of a wood thrush. It was in the edge of the woods 
back of the hotel. The gurgling preludes and inter- 
ludes were fine, while the song itself, alternating on 
high and low keys, was sweet and mellow as any flute 
and exquisitely modulated. Each "trill-a dee dee!" 
came back in echo clear and p*fect as the song itself. 
At first those who heard it supposed the echo came 
from the rocks across the river, but in changing posi- 
tions we soon found that the barn sent it back, thus 
doubling the effect of the delightful harmony. 



VENTRILOQUIAL AND 

IMITATIVE POWER OF BIRDS. 



blithe new-comer ! I have heard, 

I hear thee and rejoice, 
cuckoo ! shall I call thee bird, 

Or but a wandering voice ? 

While I am lying on the grass 

Thy tivo-fold shout I hear; 
From hill to hill it seems to pass, 

At once far off and near. 

Thrice ivelcome, darli7ig of the spring ! 

Even yet thou art to me 
No bird, but an invisible thing — 

A voice, a mystery ; 

The same whom in my schoolboy days 

I listened to ; that cry 
Which made me look a thousand tvays, 

In bush and tree and shy. 

" WOKDSWORTH.' 



VENTRILOQUIAL AND IMITATIVE POWER OF BIRDS. 



Those who have observed the habits of birds know 
that they possess the power of imitation, but only at a 
recent period have naturalists recognized in them the 
possession of that rarer gift, ventriloquism. Most of 
the thrush family ( Turdidce) have to some extent this 
power, though some species rarely exercise it. When 
we hear the two thrushes {Turdus fuscescens and Tur- 
dus mustelinus), we look for them much higher in the 
trees than they really are. Before people become accus- 
tomed to this voice trick of these thrushes, they are 
often perplexed in locating the singers. 

I remember one extreme instance : a wood thrush was 
singing his differently keyed strains with great power 
and sweetness. I was looking through the branches of 
a thick hemlock, expecting to see him up thirty or forty 
feet in the tree. Instead of this elevation, he was with- 
in three or four feet of the ground, not twenty feet from 
me. For a long time he continued his songs, but all the 
time with this ventriloquial effect. 

The golden-crowned thrush (Seiurus aurocapiUus) has 
a habit of throwing its voice to a great distance. The 
clear military notes "I see! I see!' 1 will sometimes 
startle you with their apparent nearness, when in fact 



64 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

the bird may be in quite another part of the woods ; 
then again, when the bird is within a few feet of you, 
the song will appear to come from a distant locality. 

Even the familiar robin (Merula migratoHci) often 
makes use of this power with good effect. When he 
sings at mating time, or to attract attention, or from his 
innate love of song, he will carol away with such an 
abandon and fullness of tone that he appears to be much 
nearer than he really is ; but when he sings exclusively 
for his mate, or for the newly fledged young, whose 
presence he wishes to conceal from others, the song is 
low and tender, often half smothered, or made to appear 
in another place. 

The cat birds, which are among the most interesting 
as well as the most intelligent of the feathered tribe, 
have in individual instances, probably, arrived at a 
greater degree of proficiency in this art than any others 
of the family. They not only imitate well many notes 
and calls of other birds, but by modulating their tones 
they are capable of producing great deception in regard 
to their whereabouts. One day while watching some 
robins and gold finches bathing together in a little creek, 
I heard a cat bird warbling very sweetly, but apparently 
at a great distance away. As a treeless meadow lay in 
the direction from which the song proceeded, I wondered 
where the bird could be hidden, and sweeping a field 
glass over the stretch of meadow, I failed to locate him. 
To my surprise, I finally discovered the singer in a little 
thorn bush not ten feet from the place where I was 
standing, though the sound indicated the distance to be 






VENTRILOQUIAL AND IMITATIVE POWER OF BIRDS. 65 

many rods. On looking through the bush tangled with 
vines, I found the mate sitting on her nest of eggs. 
The male, while singing to her, had been throwing his 
voice to a distance, evidently to mislead intruders. It 
was a clear case of ventriloquism exercised with a 
motive, for as soon as he knew the nest was found he 
flew to an oak some distance off and commenced a loud 
rollicking song, moving about from limb to limb, doubt- 
less hoping to divert my attention from the nesting 
place. 

At least two of the wrens {Troglodytes aedon and 
Troglodytes hiemalis) possess more or less ventriloquial 
power. I remember how I once searched for a winter 
w^ren that was singing in a cedar thicket. I heard the 
song first on one side, then on another, always seeming 
to be above me, when in reality the bird was all the time 
on an upturned root of a little sapling, within plain 
sight. Several times afterwards I heard this wren go 
through a similar performance. 

In his " Rambles About Home," Dr. C. C. Abbott 
relates a very interesting experience on this subject with 
the yellow-breasted chat (listeria virens). " From the 
branch of a tall locust a chat warbled a series of sweet, 
liquid notes, then squealed like a squirrel and yelped 
like a dog ; following this with a wild outburst of glori- 
ous melody. While listening and wondering what next 
would greet my ears, I was surprised and startled by 
hearing the same strange sounds repeated, but at some 
distance off. Another chat farther down the path was 
singing in the same strange way. Another it must bo. 



66 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

for the first is still in sight in the same locust tree, flit- 
ting carelessly about and apparently silent. Curious to 
hear the new-comer I passed on, when the sounds were 
heard in the opposite direction. I retraced my steps, 
and now the strange medley came from the low bushes 
about me, and while looking carefully for the unseen 
chat that seemed so near, there came floating down to 
me from the tall locust's topmost branch the same series 
of odd sounds and sweet warblings. The truth was now 
clear ; the one bird had uttered every sound I had heard, 
and by his ventriloquism had for the time completely 
deceived me. My study of this habit and of its use 
now commenced, and for long weeks I watched him to 
test in every way his ability to mislead one by the exer- 
cise of this peculiar power. A little later the female 
appeared, and the two quickly selected a suitable spot in 
a tangled mass of blackberry briers at the foot of the 
locust tree, and built a commodious but roughly con- 
structed nest. While the mate was sitting, the male 
chat seemed more animated than ever, and jealous of 
any intruder, he threw his voice in eveiy direction other 
than towards the nest, Avhenever anyone came too near. 
By watching from a concealment, I found that when 
not disturbed they uttered fewer strange cries of imita- 
tion, and seldom exercised their ventriloquial powers, 
but however suddenly I appeared from my concealment, 
there was an equally quick uttering of notes of distress, 
coming as it seemed from a point several yards distant. 
Vary my experiment as I would, it mattered not ; the 
bird was thoroughly conscious of its ventriloquial 



VENTRILOQCTIAL AND IMITATIVE POWER OF BIRDS. 67 

powers, and trusted far more to it than to flight to avoid 
and mislead any intruder." 

In discussing this subject further, Dr. Abbott thinks 
that through the lapse of ages the birds have, through 
experience, learned some of the simple laws of sound. 
" They know as well as man does that certain notes can 
be heard at a greater distance than others. This 
knowledge of one of the properties of sound, simple as 
it is, is the starting point in the acquirement of mimicry, 
which is the intermediate stage between ventriloquism 
and the ordinary vocal utterances, including their 
songs." 

Probably very few birds of any species have arrived 
at such proficiency in this art, for art it certainly is, as 
have the chats and some of the wrens, which seem able 
to throw their voices in any direction. Many individ- 
uals of other species are only able to modulate their 
tones so as to seem distant or near, like the crooning of 
the loons or piping of certain plovers on the wing, and 
the cooing of the Carolina doves. 

Bradford Torry, who is a close observer and has a 
quick ear for bird notes, writes of one of the vireos. 
" The "White-eyed is a singer of astonishing spirit, and 
his sudden changes " from one theme to another are 
sometimes almost startling. He is a skillful ventrilo- 
quist also, and I remember one in particular who 
outwitted me completely. He was rehearsing a well- 
known strain, but at the end there came up from the 
bushes underneath a querulous call. At first, I tool; it 
for granted that some other bird was in the imderbush. 



68 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

but the note was repeated too many times, and came in 
too exactly on the beat." 

Several of the sparrows modulate their notes so as to 
greatly deceive in regard to distance. In riding along 
country roads how often one looks away into fields to 
see the vesper sparrow (Pooeeetes gramineus), when it is 
singing from its perch close by, on a fence stake. The 
song of the field sparrow {Spizella pusilla) is still more 
deceiving. One is also often puzzled to locate the notes 
of the Baltimore oriole {Icterus galbula). Both sexes 
have, to a certain extent, this power to mislead, and 
what is still more curious, the young birds will often 
perplex one in regard to their whereabouts. 

Few birds with soft voices can project their notes 
farther than can the cuckoos, but often in the near 
presence of man there is such a 'remoteness' about 
their mellow "coo, coo," that only the trained ear of an 
ornithologist can readily locate the bird. Burroughs 
speaks of their "clairvoyant call," and Wordsworth, 
without giving it a name, recognized this quality when 
he sings of the cuckoo : 

" While I am lying on the grass, 
Thy loud note smites my ear ; 
From hill to hill it seems to pass : 
At once far off and near." 

Lowell, in his charming sketch, " My Garden 
Acquaintance," notices this habit of the robins: "When 
they come after my cherries to the tree near my window, 
they always muffle their voices, and their faint peep 
sounds far away at the bottom of the garden. The 



VENTRILOQUIAL AND IMITATIVE POWER OF BIRDS. 69 

screech owl also softens its voice in the same way, with 
the most beguiling mockery of distance." 

Most birds have themes or songs peculiar to their 
own species, and when we have learned these we 
recognize them whenever we hear them. Not so, how- 
ever, of all. Even the common little gold finch (Sjpinus 
tristis) will often utter a strain so new and strange that 
those most familiar with it fail for a moment to recog- 
nize the author. The purple finch (Carpodacus pur- 
purens) is also a variable singer. Some of his songs 
are as soft and peaceful as those of the warbling vireo ; 
others wild and sylvan as those of the wood-thrush or 
winter wren, while still others are loud, sharp, and 
harsh, with as little melody as the song of the indigo 
bird. Their songs in different localities also differ so 
greatly that to the uninitiated they may easily be 
mistaken for those of other species. I remember a 
remarkable performance of one of these finches. 
While gathering rhododendrons in a wet woods near 
Angola, I was surprised at a strange song that broke 
the stillness of the quiet afternoon. It was low, sweet, 
tremulous, running up and down in such quavers of 
pure melody that for the moment I was sure that I was 
listening to an unknown singer of rare power, and not 
until I saw the bird could I believe that it was the 
familiar purple finch. The young birds had but recently 
flowm from the nest, and two or three of them, with 
the old birds, were at times in the same tree. The 
female was quite busy going and coming with food for 
the young, while the male continued for a long time 



70 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

singing his incomparably sweet songs, stopping only 
occasionally to caress one of the little birds as he passed 
from one to the other. It was a question whether this 
extra music was indulged in for the especial pleasure of 
his little family, or whether it was the every -day song 
of this particular finch. 

In describing the birds of the Catskill, Eugene Bick- 
nell says of the purple finches : " They appeared to be 
in full voice, but their songs were so different from that 
of the same species near New York City that I doubted 
their identity, till a specimen was secured. Not only 
the notes, but the manner of delivering them was 
entirely strange. In the lower Hudson Valley the song 
of this finch is rich and voluble, with the notes of defi- 
nite character and number. In the Catskills all the 
notes were weak and inexpressive, and the song brief 
and of uncertain character." 

The songs of some bobolinks are remarkable perform- 
ances, both in tone and execution. The music of others 
is like that from instruments cracked and out of tune. 
"Wilson Flagg says : " The songs of the song sparrow 
{Melospiza fasciata), in the wilds of Northern New 
England, are more plaintive and sylvan, though not so 
loud and theme-like, as in thickly settled localities." 

The power of imitation is possessed by a much larger 
number of birds than that of ventriloquism. Some 
individuals will master the entire song of another 
species. Bobolinks, when caged, have been known to 
appropriate the song of canaries and sing them for 
months, in preference to their own. Other birds will 



VENTRILOQUIAL AND IMITATIVE POWER OF BIRDS. 71 

only acquire certain notes or bars, which they sometimes 
incorporate in their own songs, thus making quaint and 
curious medleys of doubtful quality. Canaries long 
living in company where they continually hear one 
another's notes will finally sing very nearly alike, though 
at first the general characteristics of their songs may 
have been quite different. 

The mocking-birds excepted, perhaps the song spar- 
row, oftener than others, mix with their strains notes 
not belonging to their own songs. I have heard them 
throw in those of the chewink, both at the middle and 
ending of their songs ; also that of the robin, blue bird, 
phebe bird, and purple finch. 

Near a creek which is much frequented by water 
birds, I have heard during the past three summers a 
sparrow interject in his otherwise fine song the high, 
sharp notes of the peetweet. Dr. Placzek, in the Pop- 
ular Science Monthly, speaks of a yellow thrush taken 
from the nest and domesticated, which, of its own 
accord, commenced crowing like a cock. " I sometimes 
heard, early in the morning, a clear, melodious cock 
crowing that seemed to come from a distant barn-yard. 
Going into the library one morning, where the bird was, 
I sat still in a further corner of the room till things 
began to get lively in the cage. I could see him with 
out being seen. Soon he found his voice, and sounded 
the cock crow which I had so often heard before with- 
out suspecting its real origin. Had I not seen the 
bird's mouth open and his throat vibrating, I should 
still have thought the sound came from a distance. 



72 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

When he saw me he broke off in the middle of the 
crowing. There is nothing particularly remarkable in 
the crowing of itself, for many birds imitate the 
sounds made by other animals. The curious fact about 
it was, that the bird would not crow in my presence, 
and would always stop when any one appeared to wit- 
ness the execution. I attributed his conduct to a feel- 
ing of shame, or to a sense of unfitness of that method 
of expression. Have we not in this another proof of 
the possession of animals of a psychical quality which 
it has been used to regard as peculiarly and distinctively 
human?" 

The blue-jay has considerable power of imitation, and 
frequently indulges in mimicry. One kept by a family 
whom I was visiting, would say "whoa" to the horse, 
sufficiently plain to stop the animal. If the bird was 
by the window, in sight of the gate, he was sure to call 
out "whoa" whenever the family horse was driven to 
the door. The jay never uttered the word to any horse 
except that of his master. 

In its wild state I have never heard a bobolink make 
a hissing noise, yet a tame one which we had in our 
possession, when disturbed or displeased, would hiss 
almost exactly like a goose. If a canary alighted on 
his cage, the bobolink would thrust out his head toward 
the intruder and hiss it off. Once, in a field, I heard a 
bobolink sing half the most common song of the 
American gold finch. Last summer I used often to walk 
across Portage High Bridge to the Letchworth woods, 
to listen to a remarkably fine-voiced wood-thrush, that 



VENTRIL0QTJIAL AND IMITATIVE POWER OF BIRDS. ( 6 

in every song interjected the long plaintive call of the 
wood-pewee. The effect was unique and surprising. 

To those interested in the psychical or reason devel- 
opment of birds, this subject possesses increased interest. 
It is quite generally conceded that birds are not only 
the most interesting, but in some respects the most 
highly organized, especially in form, color, voice, and 
power of locomotion, of any of the so-called lower 
animals. In some directions, too, they are the most 
intelligent. Not only does their heredity count for 
much, but their experience is a large factor in shaping 
and modifying their manner of life. Many of them 
are quick to take advantage of any extraneous circum- 
stances by which their conditions may be bettered. 
How many cases come under our notice in which cause 
and effect plainly enter into their calculation. Several 
species throw out sentinels to guard against surprise, 
and these have signal notes w r ell understood by all. 
They learn to avoid localities that are extra dangerous, 
and often gather in large numbers where safety is 
assured. They profit both by experience and example, 
often modifying their nesting habits, and adopting new 
methods for protection. "What subterfuges our native 
birds make use of to mislead and baffle larger birds of 
prey. On the contrary, the English sparrows, mostly 
denizens of villages and cities,' and not often having 
been exposed to the dangers that beset the birds of 
forests and fields, fall an easy prey to the smaller hawks. 
owls and shrikes that occasionally find their way among 
them. They know well enough how to avoid the 



74 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

dangers of city life, and are seldom caught napping by 
cat* or boy. 

As the birds and their eggs are so preyed upon by 
such a multiplicity of enemies, perpetuation and self- 
defense become the main problem of their lives. We 
all know how the female bird, when flushed from the 
nest, will flutter away, hobbling as though disabled and 
an easy prey until the pursuer is at a reasonable distance 
from the nest, when she will suddenly take wing and fly 
away to a safe retreat. It is easy to see what valuable 
services both mimicry and ventriloquism might be to 
them in avoiding and misleading their enemies, and it 
is not unreasonable to believe that in the future ages 
these habits may become so general as to constitute a 
prominent feature in the bird's method of protection. 



WRENS. 



" The robin and the tor en 

Are God Almighty's cock and hen." 

Old Ballad. 

" With head beneath her icing, 

A little tor en was sleeping, 

So near, Iliad found it an easy thing 

To steal her for my keeping" 

Ikgelow. 

" It teas decided in a parliament of the birds that the one 
that fleiv highest should be their king. The wren hid itself 
on the eagle's back, and when the eagle had floivn the high- 
est the turen fluttered a little higher still " 

Glossary. 

" The winter luren in summer, is one of those birds of 
the deep forest, that like the Canada speckled warbler and 
the hermit thrush, only the privileged ones hear" 

"Wake Robi*." 



WRENS. 



The wrens {Trogloditidce) belong to one of the high- 
est families of the oscines. They have many of the 
characteristics of the thrashes, with which some of them 
were formerly classified, having like them ten primaries, 
and being endowed with much of the vocal power for 
which the thrushes are so justly celebrated. In structure 
they differ from the latter by having scutellate tarsi 
and a basal cohesion of toes. Their food is similar to 
that of the creepers and nuthatches, with which they 
are often found in company. Some of them also, like 
the nuthatches, build in knot-holes and crevices, placing 
the nest out of sight. 

No other family except the sylvicolidae have such 
diverse habitat, some of the genera making their summer 
haunts in marshes, some in lawns and orchards, and 
others in deep woods. 

The marsh wrens, among reeds and rushes along the 
lakes and river shores, with their gurgling melodies, 
break the monody of the rippling waters, and add a 
charm to the often otherwise lonely scene; the friendly, 
sociable little house wrens sing in fields and gardens, 
in orchards and along dusty highways; while the 
winter wrens are the sylvan fairies of the woods which 



78 - HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

they enliven by their cheerful presence, and often fill 
with a wild, sweet melody. 

The family is very generally distributed throughout 
the old and new world, and although less numerous 
here than in many parts of Europe, in America alone 
there are said to be upwards of one hundred species, 
most of them, however, found onlj in Central and South 
America. In the United States we have less than a 
score of well-known species, and only five or six of these 
are numerous in the Middle and Eastern States. 

The most abundant of these, and the most useful, is 
the house wren (Troglodytes cedon). This interesting 
little character, familiar and domestic in his habits, 
stands second among the wrens as a vocalist, only the 
winter wren surpassing it in vivacity and sweetness of 
song. 

He is too well known to need an extended description 
of personal appearance, having the typical characteris- 
tics of the family; a rich plumage of dark ground 
work marked with waves and crossbars, small slender 
bill, short rounded wings, and tail jauntily elevated like 
that of the bantam, giving his whole appearance an air 
of comical pertness and daring, corresponding well with 
his saucy, scolding, chattering ways. He often makes 
his appearance in this latitude early in April, and con- 
tinues in song till August, singing at intervals from 
early morning till dusk. His song is noted for its 
gushing volubility and rapidity of utterance. The song 
is so joyful and cheerful, poured out with such hearti- 
ness that one never wearies of the oft-repeated strain 



WRENS. 79 

uttered like dissyllabic words, bubbling out and effer- 
vescing as though the little body had been charged 
with musical carbonic acid gas. Few other native birds 
show such fondness for the companionship of man. 
About country houses and village lawns he is the 
commonest of the native birds. Before the sparrow 
pest became so general, he was very abundant in cities, 
often occupying the little bird houses attached to trees 
or buildings, or making his nest in some niche in the 
wall, where often two broods were raised in one season. 
Unlike many other birds, the house wren sings most 
near its nest. If the nest is in the dry limb of a tree, 
you will hear the male bird only a few feet from the 
structure, above it, below it, or on one side, changing 
continually his place and attitude, appearing only intent 
to utter the greatest number of songs in the shortest 
possible time. If the nest is placed in a stump, then he 
will do most of his singing from this or from an adjoin- 
ing stump. When he builds in a cranny or niche of the 
wall of a dwelling, he will sing by the hour from the 
roof, going from gable to gable on the ridge, stopping 
occasionally to scold at the dog or cat below. The roof 
of the country barn is one of his favorite perches, when 
he has a nest near by. Sometimes he builds sham 
nests not very far from the one containing the treasures 
of eggs £>r young; these are only "make believes," 
never finished, and with no attempt at concealment. 

Whether he does this extra work for pastime in the 
exuberance of spirits, or as a stratagem to divert 
attention from the real nest, is a question. In a stumpy 



80 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

pasture at Charlevoix, I was attracted by the loud and 
continued singing of one of these birds, and going to 
the place, I saw him on a crumbling stump, pouring 
out song after song, and not stopping until I was 
almost within reach of him ; then he moved to another 
stump near by — all the time continuing his song. An 
examination of the first stump revealed a half finished 
nest in an exposed cavity, very unlike one made for use. 
Following him up to his second perch I found a similar 
structure ; not to be thrown off the track, I continued 
the search, and in a decayed limb of a fallen tree in an 
excavated cavity, I found the real nest, on which was 
sitting the female. The little pretender put off his 
careless demeanor and changed his song to such a burst 
of rage and distress that I hurried away and left him 
to try his stratagem on the next visitor. 

A pair of wrens, for several consecutive years, built 
in a large auger hole in a gate post quite near the house. 
The birds never appeared disturbed by the people and 
teams that passed by the nest, sometimes hourly and 
with much noise. The presence of the house cat alone 
gave annoyance to the fearless little couple, and when 
this cat caught one of the little ones which had left the 
nest a little prematurely, the anger and bereaved 
affection manifested by these courageous little creatures 
was marvelous to behold. They scolded, lamented, and 
condoled in their bird fashion, and even gave the cat 
battle. 

The house wren is not only a most interesting little 
bird and delightful singer, but he is very useful withal, 



WRENS. 81 

clearing our bushes and fruit trees of insects and larvae 
— a benefactor to the husbandman and horticulturist. 
His usefulness has no drawbacks, as he neither disturbs 
bud nor grain, being entirely insectivorous in his habits. 
A gentleman in Central New York, appreciating the 
advantage of having a colony of such workers on his 
premises, provided nesting places for a goodly number, 
and for several years a score of nests were built in the 
orchard and near the house. By this means his vines 
and trees bore plentifully of fruit. Finally the sparrow 
struck this locality in such numbers that his friends 
were driven away. 

The nests of the wrens are variable, differing as 
widely in size and material as in the places in which they 
are built. Some are small and compact, made almost 
wholly of the finest fabrics, while others on the outside 
are of coarse sticks, sometimes in immense quantities, 
but inside they are all neatly finished and deftly lined 
with the softest of stuffs — much of it down and soft 
wool. The eggs are from six to nine in number, of a 
delicate pinkish white and finely dotted with reddish 
brown. Two broods, and sometimes three are raised in 
a season. 

The long-billed marsh wrens (Cistothorus palustris) 
probably are second in point of number, but are more 
local in their distribution. They are principally found 
in swampy tracts of the interior, and in marshes along 
the coasts of rivers, lakes and oceans. They are more 
gregarious than the others of the family, and colonize 
somewhat in nesting. They are vivacious and musical 



82 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

in the breeding season, but their singing is mostly 
gurgling and chattering, with little attempt at a theme. 
The movements of these birds are characteristic of the 
wrens, quick and brusque. 

The nests are a curious compound of grass, sticks, 
feathers, and lichens ; these are sometimes mixed with 
a little mud, and fastened in a bunch of grass or reeds 
intertwined and laced together so that the green grass 
partially covers and neutralizes the appearance of the 
bulky structure. 

The nest has an opening on one side, and is a very 
safe and cozy place for the mother-bird and young. 
These nests are very abundant on the marshy islands 
in the upper Niagara River, and show quite conspicuously 
in the fall after the rank vegetation withers. 

I have found these nests as early as May, and I saw 
one there last summer, past the middle of July, contain- 
ing nine eggs. These eggs are much darker than those 
of the house wren, often so thickly dotted with reddish 
chocolate as to almost obscure the pinkish groundwork. 

Less abundant, though perhaps more equally distrib- 
uted, are the short-billed marsh wrens (Cistothorus 
stellaris). In many respects these resemble the long- 
billed, but with general plumage lighter, running more 
to streaks than cross-bars. The bill is slender and very 
short. Iso mud is used in the construction of the nest. 
The eggs are pure white. 

The great Carolina wren (Troglodytes ludovicianus) 
is occasional^ found in this locality, but so rarely that 
he can hardly be claimed as a resident. 



WRENS. 83 

The most royal of the family is the winter wren 
{Troglodytes Memalis). He is graceful and vivacious. 
His plumage is rich and soft, dark brown above and 
lighter beneath, strongly marked with dusky cross-bars 
anteriorly, and whitish ones posteriorly, and also a 
white bar across outer wing primaries. He is pre-emi- 
nently a bird of the woods. It is as difficult to describe 
his inimitable and brilliant song as it is that of the 
bobolink; the notes are so rapid and rippling, accelera- 
ting and diminishing, all clear and fife-like, and as liquid 
as the notes of the song sparrow. 

The song commences with a tinkling, wavering 
prelude, increasing in fervor, half whistle, half warble, 
interspersed with trills of exquisite sweetness. Bur- 
roughs says, " The winter wren is a marvelous songster, 
in speaking of whom it is difficult to avoid superlatives. 
He possesses the fluency and copiousness for which the 
wrens are noted, and besides these qualities, and what 
is rarely found in conjunction with them, a wild, sweet 
rhythmical cadence that holds you entranced. 

" His strain is rapid and gushing, and touched with a 
wild sylvan plaintiveness ; his voice fills the dim aisles 
of the forest as if aided by some marvelous sounding- 
board. Indeed, the song is very strong for so small a 
bird, and unites in a remarkable degree brilliancy and 
plaintiveness. I think of a tremulous vibrating tongue 
of silver." 

I shall never forget the first time I heard this 
remarkable singer. I was making my way through an 
intricate swamp of cedars and hemlocks near MiUgrove, 



84 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

in search of the showy lady's slipper, which grew in this 
locality. Suddenly a gush of tender melody broke the 
stillness of the place, and held me spellbound by its 
magic strain. I followed the sound through bushes and 
brambles, over fallen logs and treacherous bogs, stopping 
occasionally to take breath and to listen to the oft- 
repeated song. Presently, only a few yards away, the 
little bird dropped down from a higher to a lower 
projection of the root of an upturned tree, and with 
flutter of wings and vibrating body, continued his 
song. 

During an hour that I remained in the vicinity, he 
sang almost continually, often moving from place to 
place, and all the time apparently courting attention, 
much in the manner of the house wren. Probably he 
had a nest and mate near by, but I failed to find them. 
I am confident these wrens breed in this vicinity, as I 
have often found them in pairs and heard them sing in 
this immediate place during the months of May, June 
and July, and for several years in succession. 

With the exception of the thrushes, I could better 
spare any other vocalist of the woods. He delights me 
in such out of the way places, and in haunts to most 
unknown. When I persuade a doubting friend to go 
with me to his retreats, he is quite sure to reward my 
faith by making his appearance, and always with harp 
tuned for music. It is a curious phenomenon that when 
we have discovered something for which we have longed 
and searched, how frequently the object appears to us 
afterwards. So, too, objects rare to most people appear 



WRENS. 85 

everywhere to others. No one more fully appreciates 
this than the naturalist. 

One person can gather quantities of arbutus in woods 
where others affirm that no arbutus grows. 

Thoreau could, in any field, find his Indian arrow. 
Langille has only to cross a vacant lot in the city, even 
in winter, to see a shore lark, and very likely to find its 
nest half covered with snow. David F. Day finds the 
pinguicnla on almost inaccessible rocks that look verdure- 
less to others. My friend, J. F. Cowell, has only to 
step upon the grass to find an interesting adventitious 
plant never seen in the locality by others. This wren 
is my Indian arrow — my pinguicula, and its voice often 
adds a charm to my rambles in the heavier woods. I 
remember one wild romantic glen, near Portage Falls. 
A cool stream runs through it, and tall hemlocks and 
pines grow thick along its sides, entwining their boughs 
with those of the chesnuts and beeches. The arbutus 
and Mitchella carpet, the steep banks whose summits are 
crowned with the more showy, though not less fragrant 
azalia. Here, too, grows in great abundance the beautiful 
little flowery wintergreen, with its roseate hues and 
curiously shaped blossoms. The place always seems such 
a fitting retreat for my favorite little musical hermit, 
that I never visit it without feeling almost certain that 
I shall hear him there. Last summer as I occupied a 
favorite seat on a mossy log well up the glen, talking 
with a companion about the bird, and expressing the 
wish that we might hear him, sure enough, almost as by 
magic, the clear, sweet and never-to-be-mistaken notes 

5 



86 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

fell on the long expectant ear, and my friend, no longer 
doubting, listened in amazement and delight. This 
glen, always charming, will henceforth have a new 
attraction, for unless prevented by some mishap, the 
bird will be sure to return to this locality, as the wrens 
are possessed with feelings of strong local attachment. 

The golden-crowned wrens {Regulus satrapa) and the 
ruby-crowned (H. calenduhis), although called wrens, 
belong to the sylvidae family, only sparingly represented 
in the State, but abundant in the old world, where they 
have entered much into the quaint legendary literature 
in some of the countries. 

The two common species, generally called kinglets, 
are very small creatures, weighing only the fraction of 
an ounce each, and, like their cousins, they are bright, 
active and quite musical. His plumage is rich and 
marked, olive above, lighter underneath, wings well 
barred with white and edged with yellow. The bill 
and feet are dark. The two species resemble each other 
very closely, except the markings on the head, from 
which they derive their names. 

The ruby-crowned has a patch of scarlet on the head, 
sometimes almost concealed by other feathers. 

The golden-crowned has a bright scarlet patch 
bounded by yellow, giving the pretty creature a jaunty 
military air. 

During the migrations the two species are very 
abundant here; they come early, generally before the 
leaves start to open, and often remain several days, a 
few even spending the summer here in favored w^oods ; 



WEENS. 87 

when they are migrating, the golden-crowned do not 
sing, but have almost a constant chirp, much resembling 
that of the red-headed chipping bird ; but in summer, at 
nesting time, the golden-crowned has a delightful song, 
fine and far-reaching, verging on the plaintive, but very 
sweet. 

All the wrens are useful. They are the friends of 
husbandry and horticulture, being entirely insectivorous 
in their habits. They delight us with their beauty, 
their cheerfulness and their sweet songs. Their virtues 
are all positive. They are harmless, neither driving 
away other birds nor destroying anything useful to 
man. If people had shown them half the favors they 
have shown the querulous, scolding, pugilistic, unmusi- 
cal and nearly useless English sparrow by preserving 
them from harm, and providing them with nesting 
places, we might now have the house wrens, at least, 
in abundance about our premises, objects of interest, 
and also sources of profit. 



TREES AND TREES. 



" I have turitten many verses, but the poems I have pro- 
duced are the trees I planted on the hillside which over- 
looked the broad meadows, scalloped and rounded at their 
edges by the Simeon's Houstanic. Nature finds rhymes for 
them in the recurring measures of the seasons; winter 
strips them of their ornaments, and gives them, as it were, 
in prose translation, and summer reclothes them in all the 
splendid phrases of their leafy language. Wliat are these 
maples and leeches and birches but odes and idyls and 
madrigals ? What are these pities and firs and spruces but 
holy hymns, too solemn for the many-hued raiment of their 
gay deciduous neighbors. It is enough to hnow that when 
we plant a tree ive are doing what we can to make our 
planet a more wholesome and a happier divelling -place for 
those who come after us, if not for ourselves" 

Oliver Wekdell Holmes. 



TREES AND TREES. 



Trees, like the rocks, have written the history of the 
ages ; they are also their own chronologists, and some 
now standing have, during a period of ninety genera- 
tions of men, marked off each year in their own great 
bodies more legibly than it could have been written in 
a book. The tree is the most highly organized of plant 
bodies ; it possesses greater longevity and attains larger 
dimensions than any other object ; but great age does 
not impair its usefulness, nor size mar its symmetry of 
proportion. It is a thing of grace and beauty from the 
time, as a plantlet, it strikes its little radicle into the 
earth in search of sustenance, and lifts the delicate 
plumule from its cotyledonous bed to live a lif e in air 
and sunshine. 

No other object combines use and beauty in such 
infinite proportion. It furnishes us fuel and yields us 
food ; it shelters man and beast from wind and storm, 
and shields them from the rays of the noonday sun. In 
all ages it has furnished the chief material for building 
and adorning men's homes, as it also enters largely into 
nearly all the industries of civilization ; and yet, with all 
its manifold uses, we love it better for its beauty's sake 
and for the pleasant associations that so often cluster 



92 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

about it. It may be only the old apple tree standing 
near the cottage door, scattering its blossoms over the 
threshold in spring-time, and later dropping the mellow 
fruit in the well-trodden pathway; or, perhaps, the 
group of elms and maples that throw their shadows 
across the dooryard lawn, and through whose canopy of 
green leaves children have watched the stars. Like hills 
and mountains, the presence of trees stimulates the affec- 
tions, brightens the fancy, kindles the imagination, and 
increases the love of home and country. Few poets are 
found in a treeless country, and most of the old homes 
that have been kept in the same family, generation after 
generation, are those to which trees have added their 
greatest charm. 

You go to the w^oods even for the fall enjoyment of 
the physical senses — smell, and sight, and sound. There 
the strong health-giving breath of the conifera is min- 
gled with the delicate, sweet odor of the violet and 
arbutus ; there only can you look into the blue eyes of 
the Hepatica or find the rose-tinted flowering winter- 
green and the white and pink blossoms of the Mitchella 
— little flowers that fill the mind with an exquisite and 
unspeakable pleasure. In no other place will you hear 
in their perfection the sweetest of all music, the songs 
of the wood and hermit thrushes and the wild vibrating 
lyric of the winter wren. Nectar and ambrosia, drink 
and food of the gods, were supposed to be products of 
the woods. 

To the student naturalist, trees are especially interest- 
ing, as they contain the elements of many sciences. 






TREES AND TKEES. 93 

Biology, botany, chemistry and the laws of light, heat 
and color can be studied in their growth and structure ; 
and he who enters this gateway of investigation will 
find a new and charmed land before him — it may be a 
wonder-land — but the first step taken will lead to the 
desire to explore the whole magic domain. As he looks 
upon that well-proportioned trunk towering into cloud- 
land, with its wide spreading branches crowned with 
millions of shining leaves, he will wish to know how 
these have been silently gathered, atom by atom, from 
chaotic inorganic matter and so perfectly arranged and 
so exquisitely painted — how the cells of root, stem and 
leaf are formed — the material that enters into their 
composition — how they multiply and divide and arrange 
themselves like a big army of little workers to build up 
the huge citadel and to provide for the perpetuation of 
its kind. He will wish to know how the millions of 
root mouths suck the food from the earth and send it so 
far through such myriads of circling channels to the 
leaves for digestion and assimilation — how the tree 
breathes through its countless stomata, leaf -mouths, ex- 
haling oxygen and inhaling carbon in sunlight, and 
reversing the process in the dark. He will wish to know 
why alternate leaves arrange themselves spirally on the 
stem with mathematical exactness ; why the root seeks 
darkness and the stem the light," and why leaves are 
attracted strongly toward the blue and violet rays of 
light, while the yellow rays assist more in their develop- 
ment and growth. 



94 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

Some of these questions may be answered by study 
and experiment, while others the most scientific research 
has failed to solve. The chemist can make the analysis, 
but the synthesis which the tree has made surpasses his 
ability to perform. 

The most interesting problem in connection with this 
study, and one perhaps the most diversely explained, is 
the manner in which the fluids circulate or move from 
one part of the tree to another ; but whether by expan- 
sion, contraction, capillary attraction, endosmose, osmose 
or permeation, experiment and observation teach that 
most of the crude sap taken up from the earth by the 
roots, after depositing some of its earthy matter in the 
cells to thicken their walls, and taking in return gran- 
ules of chlorophyl, is carried by the pleurenchyma, 
parenchyma and duct cells to the extremities of the stem 
or branches, there to nourish buds, leaves, flowers and 
fruit, while the food, principally carbon, taken from the 
air by the leaves, together with portions of vitalized sap, 
is carried downward and deposited in the cambium 
layer to form the new outer rim of wood and the inner 
rim of bark ; thus showing, if there is not a complete 
circulation of fluid, there is at least an upward flow 
through one set of vessels, and a downward flow through 
other channels. In connection with the respiration and 
absorption of carbon by the leaves, how far they act as 
capillaries in changing the fluids from one set of cells to 
another is yet unknown, but there is little doubt that 
the principal work of the foliage is to build up the wood, 
while the root sap nourishes the foliage. 



TREES AND TREES. 95 

Trees occupy a prominent place in the literature of all 
ages, and especially in the pleasing myths handed down 
to us by Hessiod, Homer, Ovid and Virgil, and a partial 
acquaintance of this literature is absolutely necessary to 
the full enjoyment and understanding of most fanciful 
writings of our standard authors. 

One cannot but admire the reverence with which the 
ancient Greeks and Romans regarded the trees, endow- 
ing them as they did with attributes half human, half 
divine. They believed that many of them held en- 
shrined within their woody bark sylvan deities, w r hose 
lives were darkened when the tree was felled. These 
Dryads and Hamadryads animated every part of the 
trees from root to smallest spray of limb, investing them 
with life and beauty, feeling and intelligence. It was 
these bright creatures that shuddered and moaned in the 
storm or softly sighed in the gentle breeze. They shiv- 
ered and grew pale at the approach of cold, but became 
glad in the spring-time, and their joyous laughter rippled 
out in shining, fluttering leaves and bright blossoms. 
These woodland deities regarded with favor those who 
treated them kindly, but often meted out punishment to 
such as did them violence, as in cases of Rhecus and 
Erisicthon. The former, seeing an oak about to fall, 
propped it up and stayed it in its place, and the grateful 
nymph inhabiting it rewarded the generous deed by 
granting the fulfillment of any wish which he might 
make. Erisicthon was famous for " lifting up the axe 
against trees," and despoiling forests; he regarded 
neither the use nor the beauty of trees, and even felled 



96 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

the Deoian oak that stood in the grove sacred to Ceres. 
It is said of this famous oak that it towered above the 
other trees as loftily as the other trees towered above 
the grass, and that it was a woods in itself. When the 
Dryads remonstrated with Erisicthon, he boasted that he 
would fell the tree even if it were the goddess herself. 
While the old oak shuddered at the last stroke given it, 
a voice issued from the trunk, saying: U I, a nymph 
most pleasing to Ceres, am beneath this wood and dying, 
rejoice at the punishment which will be meted out to 
thee." The goddess destined him to be tortured by 
famine, famine so dire and terrible that he was finally 
compelled to eat portions of his own miserable body 
trying to appease his hunger. In that olden time of 
myths people and nymphs were transformed to trees, 
sometimes at their own requests, but oftener for in some 
manner offending other deities. The Heliads, children 
of the sun, were changed to poplars ; Altis to a pine ; 
the mother of Adonis to a myrrh tree; an Apulion 
shepherd, who mocked the nymphs, was transformed to 
an olive tree, and his tears became bitter berries. The 
fair virgin Daphne, at her own request became a laurel, 
that she might escape from her lover god, Apollo, who 
was in pursuit of her. The beautiful Dry ope was trans- 
formed to a lotus tree for unwittingly plucking a blos- 
som from a shrub in which was enshrined the nymph 
Lotus. A juster doom met the Eonian women, who, 
turning to flee after murdering Orpheus, found their 
flight checked by the rapid lengthening of their toes. 
Soon their feet became rooted to the ground, their flesh 



TREES AND TREES. 97 

turned to woody fibre, their hair and hands changed to 
leaves and branches, and a thick and rugged bark en- 
closed their shuddering forms. The most interesting of 
these pretty mythological metamorphoses is related of 
Baucis and Philemon. This good old couple, although 
unaware of the greatness of their guests, entertained 
Jupiter and Mercury very hospitably of their frugal 
fare, and as a reward two wishes were granted them — 
one to be the keepers of the temple which had arisen on 
the site of their humble cottage ; the other, to die to- 
gether, at the same hour and in the same manner. So 
when fullness of years had dimmed their eyes they were 
changed to trees, the one to a grand and spreading oak, 
the other to a tall and graceful linden tree. For many 
ages they grew side by side, intermingling and inter- 
twining their roots and branches as tenderly and lov- 
ingly as they had lived their sweet and simple lives. 

We are told that in the olden times, trees walked and 
talked as well as thought, and were attracted by the 
power of music. When Apollo and Orpheus played the 
harp the trees and cattle came together and crowded 
about them, trembling with the emotions which the 
sweet sounds awakened. Says Ovid: "There was a 
hill, and upon the hill a most level space of a plain, 
which the blades of grass made green ; all shade was 
wanting in the spot. After the bard, sprung from the 
gods, had seated himself in this place and touched the 
strings, a shade came over the spot. The tree of Cha- 
onia was not absent, nor the groves of the Heliades, nor 
the mast tree with its lofty branches, nor the tender 



98 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

lime tree, nor yet the beech, and the virgin laurel, and 
the brittle hazel and the oak adapted for making spears, 
and the fir with knots, and the holm bending beneath 
its acorns, and the genial plane tree and the parti-col- 
ored maple, and the tine tree with its azure berries ; 
you, too, the ivy tree with your creeping tendrils, and 
the elms clothed with vines; the ashes too, and the 
pitch trees and the bending palms, the reward of the 
conqueror ; the pine with its tufted foliage and bristling 
at the top, pleasing to the mother of the gods. Such a 
grove of trees had the bard attracted round him, and he 
sat in the midst of an assembly of wild beasts and a 
multitude of birds." 

One of the famous oracles consulted by the priests 
was the Talking Oak of Dodona. It possessed miracu- 
lous power. A staff cut from one of its branches always 
guided the traveler in paths of safety, and conducted 
him to desired havens. Mercury's wonderful cane must 
have come from the tree, and it is related that the vessel 
in which Jason went in search of the Golden Fleece had 
her figure-head carved from a portion of one of its 
branches, and the success of the voyage was thereby 
assured. 

Some of the groves were sacred to the celestial gods 
and others to lesser deities. The forest of Mount Ida, 
the foster home of Jupiter, was one of these sacred 
groves. The trees here were proof against the elements, 
and vessels built from the timbers could withstand the 
winds and the waves of the sea, and even the wrath of 
Neptune was unable to harm the mariner in these crafts. 



TREES AKD TREES. 99 

Virgil tells us that Eneas was allowed to build his ships 
of the pines from this forest, and that when the Latians 
attempted to burn them before Italy, Venus changed 
them to nymphs, and they sailed away into the air. 

At the marriage of Jupiter and Juno the most noted 
gift to the bride was a tree laden with golden fruit. 
Many people have regarded the oak as sacred. The 
Druids offered sacrifices in oak groves, and consulted 
these trees in their worships ; hence, perhaps, the name 
Quercus, from quero, to seek. 

If we may believe the poets who wrote of these 
things, trees occupy no inconspicuous place in the land 
of spirits. When Dante and Virgil crossed the river 
Styx, they found tangled and matted forests of brown 
foliaged trees, each tree a living spirit undergoing pen- 
ance for crimes committed against self, and although it 
was the lightest form of punishment in all these " cir- 
cles" of misery, yet lamentations were issuing from 
them. Dante says : " We had put ourselves within a 
wood that was not marked by any path whatever ; not 
foliage green, but of a dusky color; not branches 
smooth, but gnarled and intermingled. Therefore the 
Master said : ' If thou break off some little spray from 
any of these trees, the thought thou hast will wholly be 
made vain.' Then stretched I forth my hand a little 
forward and plucked a branchlet off from a great thorn, 
and the trunks cried: 'Why dost thou mangle me? 
why dost thou rend me ? hast thou no pity whatsoever I 
Men once we were, now changed to trees.' ' : But as 
they ascended up through Purgatorio to Paradiso they 



100 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

found wondrous trees, some filled with fruit and bearing 
sweet incense. Of one of these he says : 

"Even as a fir tapers upward from bough to bough, 

So downardly did that. 

I think in order that no one it might climb ; 

The while among the verdant leaves 

Mine eyes I riveted as he is wont to do 

Who spends the day in watching little birds " 

When Eneas wished to descend to the realms of 
Pluto to consult his father Anchises, the Sybil directed 
him to propitiate Proserpine by the gift of a golden 
branch cut from a tree in a grove sacred to Diana and 
Apollo. 

Arriving at the Elysian fields after passing the Plu- 
tonian region of darkness and desolation, he saw multi- 
tudes of the blessed reclining in the shade of wide 
spreading trees, and the hillsides and the plains were 
adorned with beautiful groves, in which Greeks and 
Trojans pursued their games. Not only the golden 
streets and a river of life make beautiful the New Jeru- 
salem, but we read in Revelations, " In the midst of the 
street of it, and on either side of the river was the tree 
of life which bore twelve manner of fruits and yielded 
her fruit every month ; and the leaves of the tree were 
for the healing of the nation." 

This reverential and tender regard for trees has been 
implanted in the minds of all imaginative people, ancient 
and modern, sacred and profane; the pure pleasure 
derived from their contemplation is peculiarly a part of 
the poet's dower. 



TREES AND TREES. 101 

The bards of Israel sing of the cedars of Lebanon and 
use them as symbols of strength, grandeur, beauty and 
grace. David was particularly partial to the cedar, and 
history relates that his dwelling was built entirely of 
this exquisite wood, which was presented to him by 
Hiram, King of Tyre. Moses, in laying down the law 
to the children of Israel before crossing the Jordan, 
said : " When thou shalt besiege a city a long time in 
making war against it, thou shalt not destroy the trees 
thereof by forcing an axe against them ; and thou shalt 
not cut them down to employ them in the siege." 
Shakespeare greatly admired the pine that towered 
above other trees as his genius did above that of other 
men ; the wind playing through its needle leaves was 
not to him, as to most people, a mournful monody, but 
an anthem of inspiration. Coleridge was partial to the 
graceful birch, and called it " The Lady of the Woods." 
Bryant loved best the apple tree, with its blossoms as 
beautiful and fragrant as those of the rose, which be- 
longs to the same natural order, while Whittier and 
Longfellow never weary of singing the praises of our 
own incomparable sugar maple. Thoreau, whose heart 
lay very close to the great heart of nature, was a devoted 
worshiper at their shrines, and when he would reinvig- 
orate his flagging physical and mental powers he walked 
for a day in the beautiful groves of Concord or sought 
a month's seclusion in the primitive forests of Maine. 
He sympathized with their sylvan spirits, and communed 
with them as the devout do with celestial deities. He 
looked upon the wanton destruction of a tree or a forest 



102 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

as a sacrilege, and " thanked God that these choppers 
were not able to cut down the clouds." In speaking of 
the destruction of the pine forests, he says : " Strange 
that so few men ever come to the woods to see how the 
pine lives and spires, lifting its evergreen arms to the 
light to see its living success. Most men are content to 
see the broad boards and sticks of timber brought to 
market, deeming that the tree's success ; but a dead pine 
cut down is no more a pine than a dead carcass is a man. 
It is not the lumberman, who stands nearest the tree, 
understands it best and loves it most ; it is not he who 
has bought the stumpage on which it stands, and who 
must cut into it to find if its heart be sound. All the 
trees shudder when that man steps on the forest floor. 
]STo, no ; it is the poet who makes the truest use of the 
tree ; he does not fondle it with an axe, nor tickle it 
with a saw, nor stroke it with a plane ; he loves it as he 
does his living friends and lets it stand. It is the living 
spirit of the tree with which I sympathize. It may be 
as immortal as I am, and perchance will go to as high a 
heaven, there to tower above me still." 

Perhaps no naturalist was more highly endowed 
with the poetic imagination or held closer communion 
Avith the living spirit of nature than Wilson Flagg. By 
streams and rocks, in fields and woods, the exquisite 
unseen beings, seen only by the mind's eye of the poet, 
kept him delightfuTcompany. Concerning one of his 
favorite resorts, a wild sequestered nook not yet spoiled 
by art, he says : " Every one who visited it felt inspired 
with a mysterious sense of cheerfulness and pensive 



TREES AND TREES. 



103 



delight that could hardly be explained. It became evi- 
dent at last that these groves and pastures must be the 
residence of the rural deities, who by their invisible 
presence inspired every heart with those delightful sen- 
timents which, though not entirely unf elt on earth, are 
well known in paradise. It was the presence of these 
deities that yielded the place its mysterious charm. It 
was the naiad who gave romantic melody to the foun- 
tain that bubbled up from the mossy glen in the hill- 
side, and spread the hue of beauty over the solitary lake 
in the valley ; and the dryads, or wood nymphs, that 
caused these woodland arbors to rival the green retreats 
of Elysium." 

In England, almost alone of the older settled coun- 
tries, large areas of woods remain, the prominent feat- 
ures in the fair landscape scenery. There, not only the 
forests, but many of the individual trees are intimately 
associated with the history of the past as they are with 
the myths and legends of the country. How many 
clannish feuds and kingly quarrels have the dryads of 
these gnarled and patriarchal old trees witnessed, some 
of them reaching back into the distant centuries. The 
ancestral tree is as much an object of interest as the cot- 
tage or old manor hall that it shadows, and is equally a 
sharer in the owner's regard. Among these are r the 
Great Oak, Major Oak, Oak of Parliament, the Swilcar 
Oak of Needwood upwards of six hundred years^old, 
and the Eoyal Oak, in which Charles II. secreted him- 
self after his defeat at Worcester. The Spread Oak of 
Thoresby is a woods in itself, and would give shelter to 



104 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

a regiment of men. The Greendale Oak of Welbeck 
probably takes the priority in age, and is supposed to be 
1,500 years old. Heme's Oak, where the wood goblin 
had his haunts and about which " the fairies danced with 
twenty glow worms for their lamps," when they played 
the game against Falstaff for his evil desire, was blown 
down a few years ago. There have been good Rhecuses 
to look after some of these trees, who have banded and 
riveted and propped them up to stay them against decay 
and storm. England may well hold in high esteem her 
trees, especially her noble oaks, as she is indebted to 
them in a large degree for her supremacy on the sea. 

As the wealth of a country increases, people have 
more leisure for the cultivation and enjoyment of aes- 
thetic tastes, and the old homesteads with their wooded 
surroundings become dearer in the eyes of each succes- 
sive generation, and many an old oak or maple or elm 
on the premises is looked upon with the same reverence 
as the family monument in the burying ground. This 
feeling is becoming more general too in communities, 
especially in our eastern cities. With what scrupulous 
care the people of Boston guard the old trees on the 
commons ! 

When the old Charter Oak at Hartford was blown 
down a few years since, many of the inhabitants of the 
place were really in mourning, and the band, wearing 
badges of grief, marched through the city, and during 
the afternoon played sad music over the prostrate old 
weather-beaten land-mark of the past. 



TREES AND TREES. 105 

This country has been favored above all others in the 
natural variety and abundance of useful and ornamental 
trees, and had farmers and lumbermen shown due wis- 
dom and foresight in their treatment of the forests, 
using only such timber as their necessities required, and 
clearing such portions as were needed for tillage, leav- 
ing larger and more frequent areas uncut, especially on 
steep hillsides, along all water courses, shores of lakes, 
banks of rivers, smaller streams, and along all highways, 
the enjoyment of magnificent landscapes, of shade and 
shelter from winds, would have been cause for future 
generations to bless the memory of their ancestors. 
Instead, this generosity of nature has been met by 
man's most lavish and destructive spirit. A ceaseless 
war has been waged on our pine forests, more destruc- 
tive than that upon the Indians. Not only have the 
trees been used for proper purposes, but the speculating 
lumbermen have swept over millions of acres, denuding 
them of their priceless products, and oftentimes ruining 
themselves at the same time they despoiled God's fair 
country. The valuable groves of black walnut have 
nearly all been felled, and their huge trunks cut into logs 
and hurried to the jaws of the mills, as though their 
presence were hateful in the sight of their owners. 
Hardly a tree of the beautiful black cherry remains in 
the Eastern States. The bass-wood and white-wood are 
rapidly following. The red beech, chestnut and white 
ash have been split into rails or burned as fuel. The 
cedars have been made into pails and fence posts, until 



106 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

hardly enough of the fragrant wood remains to encase 
the lead of pencils. The hemlocks standing with their 
bald, uncovered heads, or pointing their evergreen taper- 
ing spires heavenward, would seem to be pleading for a 
little respite from axe and saw and devouring flame ; 
but no mercy was shown them. They have been de- 
stroyed in season and out of season, in every conceivable 
manner and for every conceivable purpose. Countless 
numbers of them have been felled merely for their bark, 
as many a desolated old " bark peeling " district will 
show ; while the maples, the patricians of the forests, in 
their vernal vesture delicate as the first wild blossoms 
that nestle at their root, and in their autumnal foliage 
flaming up like the cardinal flowers — trees whose wood 
is fit for so many practical and beautiful uses — have been 
subject to still worse treatment. After having their 
sweet blood extracted year after year, until there was 
no place on their scarred bodies where the sugar makers 
could tap them more, they have been chopped into fire- 
wood, and charred in coal pits and burned in log heaps, 
until the beautiful and profitable sugar orchards that 
once adorned so many pleasant hillsides in New York 
and New England are now only shown by blackened 
stumps and straggling underbrush, young pollards 
struggling for existence out of the graves of their 
ancestors. 

When w^e return to the rural homes of our earlier 
years, how our hearts go out to meet the pleasant groves 
and shaded byways that helped to make that olden time 



TREES AND TREES. 



107 



such a charmed existence. Our eyes seek the old sugar 
bush on the hillside, the maple groves in the pasture 
fields, the wild cherry trees in the meadow, and the 
wide spreading elms that stood sentinels at the gate- 
ways. Fortunate, indeed, if these " landmarks and love- 
marks " are still standing, but oftener Ave find them 
swept away. Some Erisicthon in the guise of the " model 
farmer " could not tolerate mere objects of beauty where 
they stood against the bank account. There were dol- 
lars' worth of cord- wood in the maples ; the cherry tree 
shaded valuable grass land ; children, when they came 
in the later summer time to gather cherries, trampled 
down the aftermath ; and the elms obscured the view of 
the new house. And what are landscapes and senti- 
ments and affections in comparison with gratified pride 
and accumulated dollars ? If sentiment and love of 
scenery have no influence in restraining our people from 
this prodigal waste of forests, at least a regard for the 
physical condition and welfare of the country should 
cause them to pause and ask themselves what will be the 
final and near consequence of this almost total extinc- 
tion of our forests. Great freshets and inundations, 
bare hills still farther disfigured by unsightly gullies, 
extended droughts and dried-up vegetation, a loss of 
equilibrium of climate, seasons of extreme heat quickly 
followed by intense cold, violent and destructive storms, 
a scarcity of insect-destroying birds, and thereby a 
great increase of pestiferous insects that annoy man and 
prey upon the products of his industry, a drying up of 



108 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

springs and running streams that move machinery and 
assist commerce, a scarcity of timber for building and 
other manufacturing purposes — these and many other 
equally calamitous effects must assuredly ensue unless 
the senseless and extravagant waste is soon checked. 



INTELLIGENCE IN BIRDS. 



Ask the fowls of the air and they shall tell you. 

Job. 

We should go to the ornithologist with a new feeling, if 
he could teach us ivhat the social birds say when they sit in 
the autumn council talking together in the trees. The want 
of sympathy makes his record a dull dictionary. His 
result is a dead bird. The bird is not in its ounces and 
inches, but in its relations to nature; and the skin or skel- 
eton you show me is no more a heron than a heap of ashes 
or a bottle of gases into which his body has been reduced is 

Dante or Washington. 

Emerson. 



INTELLIGENCE IN BIRDS. 



At the present time, mere structure, anatomy and 
classification in the study of natural history are engag- 
ing less attention than those higher phases or problems 
of the science, natural dependence, modification, manner 
of life and animal psychology. The advanced botanist 
turns his attention to the consideration of the fertiliza- 
tion of the plants or flowers, the origin of their parts, 
color, perfume, and the wonderful devices for their per- 
petuation and increase. The entomologist, to the uses 
of the insects in the economy of nature ; while those 
pursuing their investigations in the higher branches of 
zoology are most interested in the phenomena of mind 
or animal intelligence. Especially is this true in the 
study of ornithology. ISTearly all our native birds have 
been identified and described ; little more can be accom- 
plished in this direction, and the man who shoots a thou- 
sand birds for anatomical or technical examination 
learns less than he who carefully studies the habits and 
thoroughly learns the song of one. 

Intelligent people no longer attribute the sagacity so 
often displayed by many animals to mere instinct ; they 
understand that all creatures are in possession of a cer- 
tain amount of mental or deliberative faculties, and are 



112 HIGHWAYS AKD BYWAYS. 

capable to some extent of reasoning from " cause to 
consequence;" that this intelligence differs only in 
degree among the lower, as well as among the higher 
animals ; that the emotional natures are very nearly the 
same in all, differing only in intensity, and that the vir- 
tues and passions of hope, love, sympathy, fear, hatred, 
jealousy, resentment and revenge spring from the exer- 
cise of reasoning faculties equally among all classes of 
animals, high and low in the scale of being. Lower 
animals may not solve problems in mathematics or 
puzzle their heads over questions of ethics and jurispru- 
dence, but the same display of deliberation and fore- 
thought is manifested when the migrating fowls arrange 
the manner of flight under the direction of a chosen 
leader, and the feeding flocks set sentinels to watch for 
enemies and to warn of danger, that is shown by men 
in the organization of armies, and the arrangements to 
ensure safety by sending out sentries and picket guard. 
In eating, drinking, caring for young, and trying to 
escape from apparent danger, the animal simply obeys 
the laws of instinct, but, when it finds by experience 
and change in surroundings, or by any extraneous cir- 
cumstances, a change in the mode of life practical and 
beneficial, and so departs from the usual custom of its 
kind to better its condition, it has passed beyond mere 
instinctive impulse. It is no more the impulse of in- 
stinct that causes the yellow-bellied woodpecker (Sphy- 
rapicus varius) to bore the sound tree for sap, than it is 
that causes the farmer to tap the maple in the spring. 
The bird has ascertained that the fluid is sweet and 



INTELLIGENCE IN BIKDS. 113 

delectable, and that it will also attract insects. The 
farmer has found by experience that it will make sugar. 
The bird knows as well as the man from what trees and 
at what seasons it will run, and he generally bores the 
evergreen in winter, the maple and silver birch in March 
and April, and the yellow birch a month later, just when 
the fluids of these trees flow most freely. 

Although appearing on the earth in some of their 
primitive forms and conditions, at an earlier period than 
some of the quadrupeds, yet the birds undoubtedly in 
many respects rank first among the lower animals in 
organization and intelligence. They have the largest 
brain in comparison with the other parts of the body, it 
being in some species one-sixteenth part of the entire 
weight. Their powers of locomotion are superior to any 
other class of vertebrates. They have the largest 
breathing capacity and the most rapid respiration. An 
English scientist says : " This rapid movement of the 
heart necessitates a rapid circulation of blood through 
the brain : and this means a more hurried flow of con- 
sciousness, a more rapid succession of ideas. In a given 
time the swallow moves more, breathes more, and there- 
fore probably feels and lives more than any other living 
animal." Certainly no other beings manifest such acute 
suffering at the destruction of their mate or young, or 
show such a whirlwind of ecstasy as many of the little 
fluttering warblers do in some of their wild bursts of 
song. 

Birds alone of all the lower animals use. like man, 
the tongue as the principal organ of sound or speech : 



114 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

above all other creatures are they gifted with voice both 
in respect to quantity and quality. The little quavering 
sparrow (Spizella pusilla) can be heard half a mile away; 
the simple strain of the veery (Turdics fuscesens), though 
of such exquisite sweetness, reaches the ear twice this 
distance, while the Campenero is said to send its clear 
bell-like voice to the distance of five or six miles. Few 
sounds of the feathered tribe are harsh or discordant : 
nearly all of their utterances are pleasing; many of 
their songs are pure melody ; certainly nothing can sur- 
pass in clear liquid sweetness the notes of some of the 
song birds. The highest praise awarded to Jenny Lind, 
the finest singer ever known, was that "she could 
warble like a bird." Byron, with his critical apprecia- 
tion of all harmonies, gives as the superlative of sweet 
sounds, " The hum of bees, the voice of girls, the song 
of birds." 

Some of the physical senses are strong and active in 
the feathered tribe, and especially the aesthetic element 
in the sense of seeing and hearing. 

Birds have a very keen perception of color, and some 
species appear to receive as pure pleasure from its grati- 
fication as man himself. Undoubtedly we are as much 
indebted to the indulgence of this taste in birds, for the 
high color of some of our fruits, as we are to the bees 
and other insects for the bright colors of most of our 
entomophalous flowers. In choosing their mates those 
of the most brilliant plumage are first selected. The 
most highly colored fruits and berries are first taken, 
though other specimens may be equally mellow, sweet 



INTELLIGENCE IN BIRDS. 115 

and juicy. The humming birds avoid the neutral tinted 
flowers, though equally provided with honey nectaries, 
and seek those of brilliant dyes. Some of the vireos 
ornament the outside of their nests with patches of co- 
coons, spider-webs and other bits of delicate white sub- 
stances, thus giving the well-built structure a very neat 
and unique appearance. The humming birds often use 
bits of moss, with which they cover the entire exterior 
of the nest, arranging all the pieces in the most artistic 
and ingenious manner. There certainly is a motive for 
this extra labor : it is either for protection or attraction ; 
for concealment or ornamentation. We might attribute 
it to the former purpose were it not that often the moss 
is intertwined with beautiful and showy feathers, so ar- 
ranged as to make the structure still more conspicuous, 
especially if it is placed well out of the reach of all danger. 

Mr. Gould, the naturalist, tells us that bower birds of 
New South Wales, at mating times, build play houses 
and deck them with variegated materials, especially 
glittering substances. The males vie with one another 
in this work of ornamentation, plainly exhibiting pride 
and emulation in their artistic labors. In these ornate 
houses the loving pairs disport themselves with every 
exhibition of satisfaction and delight. These accounts 
are corroborated by many other reliable writers : some 
of the incidents related of these wonderful birds are as 
marvelous and as interesting as the history of the 
Lilliputians. 

Many of the feathered tribe manifest real pleasure at 
the execution of simple harmonies. They enjoy the 



116 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

notes of musical instruments, but more especially their 
own songs and those of one another. The pleasing 
myth that " the birds came in great flocks to listen to 
the delightful strains of Orpheus' lute " savors more of 
fact than many other things handed down as truths in 
ancient history. Our unmusical English sparrow enjoys 
the songs of other birds : on different occasions I have 
seen several of them gather about a robin as he caroled 
a pleasing song : when they came too near or in too 
large numbers he would dart at them and drive them 
out of the tree, but when he commenced again to sing, 
some of them were quite sure to return. A friend sends 
me an account of a bobolink, that, placed in a cage with 
some canaries, exhibited great delight at their songs. 
He did not sing himself, but with a peculiar ' cluck' 
could always set the canaries singing. After a while he 
began to learn their songs, note by note, and in the 
course of a few weeks mastered the entire song. Then 
' he commenced to lead the choir, and kept the others 
going much of the time. 

Even the prosaic goose, an animal ridiculed in litera- 
ture and the butt for flippant jokes, but really a very 
intelligent fowl, and capable of forming the strongest 
attachment to even man himself, is fond of music, and 
a lively air on a violin will sometimes set a whole flock 
wild with delight. On one occasion, at a country wed- 
ding, I was witness to a curious performance by one of 
these animals. After dinner a lady entertained the 
guests assembled on the lawn with music from an accor- 
dion. A flock of geese were feeding in the road just 



INTELLIGENCE IN BIRDS. 117 

below the house, and with outstretched necks answered 
back loud notes of satisfaction. Soon a white gander 
commenced dancing a lively jig, keeping good time to 
the music : for several minutes he kept up the perform- 
ance, to the great delight of the company. The experi- 
ment was tried several times during each day for a week 
or more, and the tones of the accordion never failed to 
set the old gander into a lively dance. Birds are the 
most generous of animals, often dividing their scanty 
substance with others in greater need. Some of the 
lazy Mexicans take advantage of this noble trait in the 
pelicans, to obtain their own food by a process more 
cruel than robbery. They maim some of these birds 
and tie them up to trees without food : hunger causes 
the poor animals to cry for assistance and their freed 
companions, far more human in nature than these Mexi- 
cans, which seem to be only human in form, bring fish 
from the neighboring waters to relieve their suffering 
companions. The men lying in wait fall upon these 
new-comers and make them disgorge the fish, and with- 
out mercy themselves again send the pelicans on their 
errands of mercy. 

Who has not seen the old chanticleer of the farmyard 
call about him his harem and their numerous progeny, 
and give them the last morsel of the food which he had 
found. "What affection and solicitude nearly all birds 
show for their mates and young, often sacrificing life 
and liberty in their defense ! 

Many of them chose their mates for life. Soitoav at 
the death of one often causes the death of the other. 



118 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

The mother bird has been known to die at the destruc- 
tion of her nest of young. Even in confinement many 
of them show the strongest attachment to those who 
feed and take care of them. 

Many birds not only show great sagacity in the man- 
ner of obtaining their food, but also in the manner of 
preparing it. Sometimes, when it is too dry to be eaten, 
they will moisten it in water ; if too hard to be broken 
by the usual process of the beak, they will fly high in 
the air and let it fall on a rock or the hard ground, if 
necessary repeating the experiment several times. In 
building their nests they often exhibit great cunning in 
the curious devices to escape detection. Those that 
make excavations in stubs and trees are careful to 
remove all chips from the premises. All the litter of 
the young of many species is carried away by the par- 
ents and deposited at a safe distance from the premises. 
Their knowledge of color also enables them to seek 
places and materials for their nests harmonizing with 
the general plumage of the sitting bird, thus more easily 
escaping detection by preying enemies. Swallows that 
build well out of reach take no such precautions, neither 
do orioles and other birds that make dome-like nests in 
which the sitting bird and young are sheltered from 
sight. When the nest is discovered, not less interesting 
are the cunning devices of the sitting bird to allure away 
the discoverer. She will often half run or fly, limping 
and hobbling as though wounded and disabled, appar- 
ently an easy prey to the one in pursuit. You reach 
down to pick her up, but she is just outside your grasp ; 



INTELLIGENCE IN BIRDS. 



119 



after leading you a " wild goose chase," and at a suffi- 
cient distance from the nest, how suddenly and easily 
she flies away out of reach of all danger. This is always 
the ruse of many of the ground nesters, the sparrows, 
plovers, whip-poor-will, partridge and many others. 

Jane Taylor, in an article on the difference between 
man and inferior animals, says : " Man has reason, ani- 
mals only instinct ; man makes mistakes, animals never 
do ; animals never make improvements," and continues, 
" Who ever saw a bird puzzling its head over its unfin- 
ished nest ? " Had she been an observing naturalist she 
might on many occasions have seen just this. Birds 
often find great difficulty in obtaining sufficient materi- 
als of which they are most fond, and may have to go a 
long way to get enough of the soft fabrics with which 
to finish the nest, thus delaying the completion for sev- 
eral days. 

Sometimes the twigs to which it is fastened prove too 
weak for its support, and then the ingenuity of the birds 
comes into play to remedy the defect. I have seen them 
tie two branches together, that were spreading apart, 
and make them fast to a limb above them and then finish 
the nest. Within a week I have seen the nest of an 
oriole canted over by the breaking of a limb caused by 
high wind; the birds, instead of forsaking the nest, 
somewhere secured a piece of white tape three or four 
feet long, and with this fastened the broken branch 
securely to another limb. Birds that build early in the 
season, while the weather is cold, make much more sub- 
stantial nests than those that build later. The chipping 



120 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

bird hatches its first brood in one of the most artistic 
little domiciles, substantial and well lined to keep out 
the cold and w^et, but the second and third broods, 
hatched later in the season when the weather is warm, 
are put off with a slimsy make-shift of a nest, often so 
thin and sleezy that one can see the eggs and young 
through the bottom of it as readily as through a sieve. 

The orioles that nest in Pennsylvania do not use half 
the material that those do which nest in Canada and 
Northern New York. Old birds in many cases not only 
make much better nests than the younger ones, but are 
also much better singers, some of them even adding new 
bars and strains to their songs. The cow-bunting makes 
no nest of her own, but deposits an egg in the nest of 
another bird : this she does surreptitiously and generally 
as soon as the nest is finished. We all know the inge- 
nuity exercised by some of the little birds thus imposed 
on, to prevent the incubation of this foreign egg. 

The blue-e} 7 ed warbler {Dendroica estiva), and one or 
two of the vireos build another department, and wall in 
the egg of the interloper. So general has become the 
custom of the bunting to use the nest of the blue-eyed 
warbler, that the little bird now often makes provision 
for the emergency when she constructs the nest, by 
building it deep enough for the two compartments. 

Bird migration has alwa} r s been an interesting prob- 
lem to naturalists who do not attribute all phenomenal 
intelligence to natural instinct. It may be called hered- 
itary instinct, learned through accident, perhaps, or 
acquired by necessity and afterwards transmitted from 



INTELLIGENCE m BIRDS. 121 

one generation to another. Many young birds left to 
themselves, without example of the older ones, would 
not go south at the approach of cold weather unless by 
accident. Those hatched too late to move with others 
of their kind often wander about aimlessly until they 
perish with the cold. Birds that are brought across the 
ocean from countries where climate does not render a 
change necessary do not fly south at the approach of 
winter. The English sparrows survive by their extreme 
hardiness, otherwise they would perish like other immi- 
grants. The partial failure in the introduction of the 
skylarks into this country is due solely to the lack of 
knowledge on the part of the birds concerning the cli- 
matic changes. They have not learned the necessity of 
moving to lower latitudes, and not having the example 
of their elders, nor the instinct transmitted from ances- 
tors, they remain north in the fall and perish with the 
cold. 

In nothing do the birds display greater sagacity or 
show more clearly their exercise of reasoning powers 
than in some of the phases of their migration. It is yet 
one of the mysteries of nature how they find their way 
back over a distance of thousands of miles, to the very 
tree or stump or barn in which they nested the year 
before. Do they remember familiar objects noted on 
their southern journey, or do they remember only direc- 
tion, and, like the honey bee, " strike a bee line " towards 
their destination ? The theory of " widening circles of 
flight" cannot be true, as this would take them into 
such extremes of heat and cold as to make it impossible: 



122 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

the males of several species often arrive a few days 
earlier than the females. They come to see if the 
weather and other conditions are favorable for the sea- 
son's housekeeping. AYhat were the understandings 
between these couples when the gallants started on their 
long journeys into the seemingly great unknown? 
Where and how were they to meet ? AYas he to return, 
or was she to follow after a certain time? AVe only 
know that unless accident befall one or the other, the 
pleasant spring days find them together again near their 
last year's home. That many of the birds do return 
year after j T ear to their old haunts is a fact too well 
known by those who have observed their habits to 
require any extended proof. I have known the same 
pair of robins to make their nest on a beam under a shed 
during eight or nine consecutive years : how much 
longer they might have occupied the place is not known, 
as they returned again to find the shed in ruins, and 
were obliged to seek other quarters. This pair I could 
easily identify, as the female bird was partly an albino, 
having considerable white on the back and in wings and 
tail. Another robin, that by some mishap had lost a 
foot, made its appearance in the same yard in the city 
for two or three years. In many sections perhaps only 
one barn in half a township will be used by the eave 
swallows (Petrochelidon lunifrons), but the location 
once selected, the colony will continue to return to it, 
sometimes for half a century, or until the building 
tumbles down with age or undergoes extensive repairs : 
even then stray birds, singly or in pairs, will often be 



INTELLIGENCE IN BIRDS. 123 

seen circling over the place, as if loth to leave the old 
homestead. 

A wood thrush returned to the same grove several 
summers ; I knew him from other thrushes by some 
long peculiar trills between the high and the low parts 
of the song. These were sweeter and softer and fuller 
of pure melody than I have ever heard in any other 
bird. A thousand incidents may be given to illustrate 
this local attachment and its results, but one more on the 
present occasion must suffice. On North Street, in an 
old apple tree in Mr. Gowans' yard, a pair of blue-birds 
made a nest in the cavity of a decayed limb. A high 
wind broke off the limb and the little birds, just hatched, 
fell to the ground. A young girl of the family picked 
up the fledglings and placed them in an extemporized 
nest in a basket, which she hung in the piazza near by. 
Soon the old birds found their young, and fed and 
hovered them in their nest until they were able to take 
care of themselves : even after they flew away they 
came back and remained in the nest several nights. 
Both the old and young birds were on good terms with 
the members of the family, and did not take their flight 
for the south until late in the summer. Early last 
spring, during the first sunny days of March, the male 
bird made his appearance on the premises and came into 
the kitchen for crumbs ; he remained nearly a week and 
disappeared again, but only for a few da} T s, when he 
returned with his mate to stay. They peered about the 
old apple tree, and searched for the basket for a nesting 
place, but finally observing a cavity high up in the 



124: HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

piazza, they made their nest and raised another brood of 
birds. 

There is little danger of speaking extravagantly of 
the birds. Nothing in nature excels them in beauty of 
color, elegance of form and grace of motion. They add 
the greatest charm to the landscape, and fill the world 
with twitters of gladness and volumes of delicious song. 
No less are they, than we, God's creatures. A better 
appreciation of their virtues as well as of their uses, and 
a truer understanding of their capacity for enjoyment 
and suffering, will make us more considerate in our con- 
duct towards them, and more tender and humane in our 
treatment of them. 



A DAY IN AN OLD ORCHARD. 



What plant we in the apple tree ? 

Buds, which the breath of summer days 

Shall lengthen into leafy sprays; 

Boughs, where the thrush with crimson breast 

Shall haunt and sing and hide her nest. 
A shadoiv for the noontide hour, 
A shelter from the summer's shower. 

Sweets for a hundred flowery springs 
To load the May wind's restless ivings ; 
A tuorld of blossoms for the bee, 
We plant ivith the old apple tree. 

William C. Bryaxt. 

Sentiment and feeling, and what flows from them, con- 
stitute a large part of our happiness. It would divest 
the ivorld of its poetry, its romance, its sweetness to sac- 
rifice all sentiment to a hard theory. We do not live for 

utility alone. 

Bishop Coxe. 



A DAY IN AN OLD ORCHARD. 



Blessed indeed the members of that family whose 
house, whether cottage or mansion, stands near an old 
orchard. They will have beauty, fragrance, fruit, shel- 
ter and shade ; visitants too, rare and enjoyable, from 
fields and woods. These old apple trees, emblems of 
civilization and symbols of man's industry and home 
comforts, bring much more than fruit to the premises. 
They bring the bright-winged insects and the singing 
birds, the squirrels and the mice — inhabitants of the 
hives, the fields and the woods. They bring children, 
too, to love them and to be blessed by them, to hunt 
birds' nests in the branches and build play-houses in their 
shade, to trample the grass and club the early fruit. 

It is not the modern young orchard with branches 
trimmed and thinned, with the ground kept clear of 
grass and turf, that best we love. However thrifty and 
full of promise this young and cultivated orchard may 
be, like a new house, it lacks the great charm which 
only time can give. It is the orchard, rather, with its 
mossy trunks and gnarled and scraggy limbs, with foli- 
age so dense that hi many places it has driven out the 
meadow grass and restored some of the wild things of 
the primitive woods. 



128 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

Only an hour's ride on the cars from the city is such 
an orchard which I frequently visit. When there I 
partake of the hospitality both of the orchard and its. 
proprietor, and divide with them my time and affection. 
The owner of this orchard has lived there nearly seventy 
years ; the orchard was planted ten years earlier, and 
the picturesque log house that ornaments the grounds 
was built the year before the trees w r ere planted, or 
eighty-one years ago. The low but roomy house was 
built upon honor and of good material, as well as upon 
a pleasant site ; there was no shoddy in the timber or 
in its construction. The straight logs were from the 
trimmest red beech and rock maple, and they were so 
nicely fitted to one another by the axe of the deft chop- 
pers that when plastered on the outside where they 
came together no rain nor damp could penetrate the 
chinks; and the house to-day, after an exposure to sun 
and rain of more than man's allotted age, stands as firm 
and sound and as snug and warm as it was when the 
bride came to live in it so many years ago. It is robed 
in vines, which are so dense that they have to be put 
away like curtains from the square windows to let in 
more light. 

The courteous old gentleman is justly proud of this old 
house, and would not see it replaced by any modern 
frame or brick building that the most famous architect 
could plan. He is also proud of the cellar, always filled 
with apples and barrels of cider, but prouder still of the 
mammoth trees in the orchard. He frequently calls 
attention to the one that overhangs the back piazza, 



A DAY IN AN OLD ORCHARD. 129 

with a trunk measuring nearly ten feet in circumfer- 
ence and branches of corresponding dimensions; and to 
another near the well that usually yields thirty bushels 
of apples annually. The first of these has an immense 
iron rod holding together its two main branches ; the 
other shows here and there a dead limb, notwithstand- 
ing its wonderful yield of fruit. Two other trees, stand- 
ing side by side, so nearly resemble each other in form 
and height as to remind one of that wonderful pair of 
trees representing Baucis and Philemon. They are 
more than fifty feet in height, and lean slightly towards 
each other, and although the whole orchard is of natural 
fruit, that of these two trees is exactly alike in color, 
form and taste. About the middle of May I received 
this message from the proprietor : 

" Come on Friday and you can then stay over until 
Monday ; the trees will be in full bloom, the singing 
birds are thick as bees, and your favorite cat-bird is here 
again this spring. He seems to live by singing just as 
my neighbor's boy does by whistling. What makes 
lazy boys always whistle their way through the world i 
There is a nest of young muskrats under the stone 
bridge in the road opposite the house, and the little 
fellows show themselves every morning. A little bird 
resembling the chipping bird in size and color sings in 
the trees in the pasture the most curious quavering 
songs; he is a new-comer, I think, in these parts, but 
you will likely know him. Nearly every night and 
morning a wood thrush sings in one of the large elms 
east of the orchard. We have pure milk, sweet grass 
butter, fresh eggs, and two casks of cider yet untapped 
in the cellar, and I give you the word of an old captain 
that no such cider was ever found in the city. 

"Yours, T. J. K." 



130 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

The invitation was duly accepted, and standing in the 
old orchard after supper, surrounded by such a wealth 
of beauty and fragrance, with blossoms above and below 
and falling in showers all around, silently like unosten- 
tatious acts of charity, one could fully realize that 
"blossom week" indeed brings the full fruition of 
spring's fairest promises. 

It is difficult to find adjectives to adequately describe 
apple trees. They are so beautiful, so useful and so 
generally distributed. Appearing on the earth about 
the time that man did, in all temperate climes they have 
kept pace with his improvement and civilization, and 
mark his progress in agriculture with sufficient exactness. 

Belonging to the highest order in the vegetable king- 
dom, the Rosacae, the apple tree has a flower that is a 
queen even in that order, equaling the rose itself in 
color, and excelling it in the delicacy of its fragrance. 
The tree becomes a bountiful bouquet, the " whole as per- 
fect as each part, and each part as perfect as the whole." 
You cannot find in any floral hall such a mass of odor- 
ous blossoms as some of these trees exhibit, where each 
separate flower will bear the scrutiny of the microscope. 
Her$ a large oval-topped tree presents a double centrifu- 
gal manner of inflorescence, the top of it being in full 
bloom, the middle with only the central or terminal 
flower fully out, while the lower branches show only 
pink buds. 

The orchard assists in teaching the lesson that objects 
which yield the greatest pleasure lie nearest our doors ; 
that it is not necessary to make long journeys or to ex- 



A DAY IN AN OLD ORCHARD. 131 

plore far-off countries to see the most interesting objects 
in nature. I can find more of interest in Limestone 
groves, in Wende's woods and meadows and in the vicin- 
ity of Portage than I can in the Adirondacks, the wilds of 
Northern Michigan or the primitive forests of the Caro- 
linas. Even this old orchard of less than a dozen acres 
has so many charming things growing and living, 
flowerless and flowering, winged and four-footed in it, 
that a Gray or a Nuttall would find it a field of delight 
and study. There are mosses on the north side of the 
tree trunks and lichens pendant from leafless branches. 
Tall ferns are growing in a shaded corner of the lot near 
a rivulet of pure water, and their broad fronds are as 
green and thrifty as in the shady woods. The jewel 
weed, with almost transparent stem, and leaves that 
look like silver, when immersed in water, are abundant 
and luxuriant. 

Dicentras, calamines, trilliums, anemones, poclophyl- 
lums, Claytonias, and the beautiful little Geranium 
dissectum grow here. The spikenard (Auralia race- 
mosa) is so plentiful that neighbors come to dig the root 
for medicine ; and, later, a troop of boys will be gather- 
ing the sweet, juicy and aromatic berries. What a 
field for the herbal women! such hosts of simples! 
spearmint, peppermint, catnip, horsemint, hoarhound, 
pennyroyal, thoroughwort, yarrow, mayweed, smart- 
weed, heartsease, wormwood, tansy, comfrey and bur- 
dock. My friend smiles when I ask him to spare a few 
of the finer burdocks, and replies that "they are the 
pest of the premises, good for nothing but to keep boys 



132 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

out of mischief, cutting and uprooting them." He 
looks still more incredulous when I tell him we have 
really few prettier flowers in the garden than those of 
this wholesome, rough-looking, and sometimes trouble- 
some plant. Hulme understood this, and in figuring 
the flowers of field and garden, has given us the gem of 
all in the burdock. The chief beauty, perhaps, consists 
in the exquisite harmony of color in plant and flower, 
the pink and purple fringe of the latter rivaling that of 
the attractive flowering winter green. 

Orchards possess so many attractions for the feathered 
tribes that some ornithologists have classified the song 
birds into those of the orchard, field and woods. The 
old trees afford abundant food of insects and larvae; 
they afford wonderful facilities for nesting, and their 
proximity to the house offers protection from many 
animals of prey. Nowhere else do I find nests so plen- 
tiful as in the apple orchards. Boys who collect eggs 
have found this out, and the owners have to be watch- 
ful to prevent the boys from harrying such premises. 
Fortunate for the farmers could they more generally 
become conscious of the beautiful and interesting things 
that are to be found in their immediate vicinity. Many 
of them expect only fruit from the trees, w x hen this is 
only a small part which they might enjoy. During less 
than two clays here I have found nearly thirty nests, 
among them five robins' nests, four with eggs and one 
with young birds. AVhen I climbed up to look in this 
last one the old birds made a great ado, and I could not 
convince them that my intentions were friendly. 



A DAY IN AN OLD ORCHARD. 166 

Birds have to guard against so many marauders that 
it is a wonder that they have any confidence left in man 
or other animals. One would expect them all to become 
skeptical pessimists instead of the sunny, confiding crea- 
tures which most of them still are. 

The pair with the nest in a little evergreen by the 
fence manifested very little alarm at my approach. The 
male bird alighted on a rail quite near and watched me 
without uttering a word of remonstrance. The sitting 
bird seemed loth to leave the nest, and I even touched 
her with my hand before she flew off. 

Several little chipping birds were already nesting in 
the orchard, and one could not resist the temptation to 
look into each beautifully constructed house to admire 
the little greenish blue eggs so artistically marked with 
brown and chocolate. A nest in the jasmine, over a 
front window, occupies the place that one did last year. 
Just before dusk last evening the wood thrush took his 
place on one of the elms, and for half an hour or more 
chanted his divine music. Why does he leave his friends 
in the maple woods beyond the pasture, half a mile 
away, and come here each evening to sing? Does he 
know that such strains are too sweet to be wasted in 
the woods away from human ears ? 

Three purple finches have been in the orchard and in 
close company for several daj^s, two of them singers, 
though only one of them has the bright plumage; the 
other is colored almost like the female, gray, with dull 
penciled lines of white and brown, but with no percep- 
tible bright red. The two males did not sino- at all 



13 J: HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

alike ; the bright-colored one sang a loud vivacious strain, 
while the other's song much resembled that of the 
warbling vireos. Had the one lost his color by age, or, 
by lack of age, had he not yet taken it on ? A purple 
finch kept long in confinement will lose his bright plum- 
age and become gray. Last year a pair nested in 
the orchard and often came about the cottage door with 
the chippies. 

The little brown bird mentioned by my host is the 
field sparrow (Spizella pusilla). He sang much of the 
time yesterday from a shade tree in the field near the 
orchard. The song is ecstatic and far-reaching like that 
of the veery. It is oftenest heard in bushy pastures, or 
at the edge of a woods, where it will often surprise 
one with its strange quavering whistle so curiously 
modulated. 

The red-eyed and warbling vireos were singing almost 
unceasingly in the tall maples in front of the house, the 
former generally near the top of the trees, and the lat- 
ter in the lower branches. In the pauses between the 
songs, one knows they are searching the leaves for food. 
They are like the cheerful women, who sweeten their 
household duties with pleasant songs. The warbling 
vireo pleases you with his quiet low songs of inexpres- 
sible sweetness, uttered leisurely, as if but the accom- 
paniment of some pleasant duty. 

With the exception of that of the song sparrow, this 
simple warble is the most cheerful of that of any bird. 
He comes in April or May, and remains until October, 
singing at all times of the day in city and country and 



A DAY IN AN OLD ORCHARD. 135 

in all kinds of weather. This bird has always so de- 
lighted me that I often speak of him, and wish every- 
body to know him for the treasure that he is. 

On the side of a knoll, near the little creek, I found 
the nest of a snow bird, or slate-colored sparrow {Junco 
hyemalis). It was sheltered by a tussock of grass, and 
like all of these nests, was deep and finely finished. 
There were four eggs, and, I judged, nearly ready to 
hatch. This is the fourth nest of the Juncos that I 
have found this season. 

Bobolinks frequently came from the adjoining mea- 
dow, and alighting on the trees or fence rattled off their 
unintelligible though always musical jargon , and then 
sailed or fluttered back to their mates in the grass. The 
charm of the orchard is incomplete without their jingle. 
Two or three orchard orioles were already here — good 
singers, but seemingly shy and furtive. Their hand- 
some and bolder cousins, the Baltimore orioles, were 
dividing their time between snatches of songs and calls 
to one another. Their songs are not satisfactory. There 
is an unfinished, incompleteness about them ; the ear 
expects something more than it usually gets. These 
birds, above all others, seem to possess capabilities 
which they never reach. Masters of loud, clear and 
liquid notes, they seem content to call and scold and 
blurt out parts of strains which they never finish. They 
have learned one tiling, however, greatly to their advan- 
tage — that is, placing their swinging nests out of reach of 
most animals of prey, boys not excepted. A half dozen 
of their last year's nests were still swinging from the 



136 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

tall elms at the side of the orchard. A solitary cuckoo 
alighted in the tree nearest the house ; he uttered two 
or three soft, mellow notes, and flew to the woods. A 
pair nested in the orchard last year. 

In a partially dead tree a pair of wakeups, or yellow- 
hammers, were nesting. They have excavated a hole in a 
large limb, or rather one part of the tree, as the top of 
one of the two main branches had broken off, leaving a 
stub three or four feet in length. The nest was only a 
little higher than a man's head, and the old gentleman 
had placed a wooden chair under the tree in order to 
get a view of the nest. I approached the place noise- 
lessly, and clapping my hand over the opening of the 
cavity made the sitting bird a prisoner. I gently lifted 
the beautiful creature to the light; she made no resist- 
ance, but the fluttering of her heart spoke her conster- 
nation. To have long resisted the pleading of her dark 
eyes would have been an act of cruel ty> If a "bird in 
the hand is worth two in the bush " it must be a live 
one, even as an object of scientific study. I detained 
her only long enough to admire the beautiful umber and 
bright yellow of her rich plumage, more beautifully 
penciled than could have been done with brush and pen- 
cil by the finest artist. As I opened my hand she flew 
off, uttering a note of gladness, and rejoined her mate 
that was anxiously w r atching her from his perch on the 
trunk of an adjoining tree. They soon flew off to 
another part of the lot to talk over the affair and to de- 
termine whether it would be safe to ever venture back 
to the nest again, but they must have become reassured, 



A DAY IN AN OLD ORCHARD. 137 

for she returned in a few minutes after we left the tree. 
The five or six' white eggs were as smooth as alabaster, 
resembling fine china, and were in keeping with the 
beauty of these elegant birds. 

Not a rod from the front door of the cottage, and 
near the curbed well, I accidentally found a nest full of 
young song sparrows just ready to fly. As I stooped 
down to look at them, three of the five scampered out 
under the lilac bushes. It is marvelous that this nest 
has escaped the cats that are so often prowling about 
the yard in search of just such tid-bits. 

A low, thick thorn bush, surrounded by sweet elder 
bushes, and overrun with vines, holds the gem of the 
orchard. A cat-bird had so concealed her nest that I 
did not see it until the bird fluttered out, almost within 
reach of my hand. She flew only a few feet away, 
when the mate, attracted by the disturbance, came still 
nearer and commenced warbling in the most friendly 
manner, as if to coax me away from the place. Neither 
bird uuttered its usual notes of complaint, but one 
watched anxiously and the other continued his songs 
with many changes of tunes and attitudes, apparently 
utterly unconscious that there was any disturbance or 
danger menacing them. In the nest were four blue- 
green eggs ; not the green of the plants, nor the blue of 
the sky, but more like a certain deep color of the sea. 
The fields of nature hold not another such gem as the 
egg of this thrush ; of such exquisite material, so per- 
fect in form, being only " lines of beauty," and a color 
matchless and indescribable. And then, such a germ 



138 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

of possibilities within ; life, music and flight, only wait- 
ing a little more warmth from the mother's breast. 
There is such an unexplainable charm about a nest of 
eggs. 1 confess that I never see a nest of eggs of one of 
our domestic fowls without a thrill of pleasure. Thomas 
W. Higginson, in his incomparable " Out Door Papers," 
says : " I think that if required on pain of death to 
name instantly the most perfect thing in the universe, 
I should risk my fate on a bird's egg. There is, first, its 
exquisite fragility, strong only by the mathematical 
precision of that form so delicately moulded. Then its 
range of tints so varied, so subdued, so beautiful, 
whether of pure white, like the martin's, or pure green ; 
like the robin's, or dotted and mottled into the loveliest 
of browns; like the red thrush's, or aqua marine with 
stains of moss agate; like the chipping sparrow's, or 
blotched with long weird ink marks on a pale ground ; 
like the oriole's, as if it bore inscribed some magic clew 
to the bird's darting flight and pensile nest. Above all, 
the associations of this little wonder of winged splendor 
and celestial melody, coiled in mystery within these 
tiny walls ; it will be as if a pearl opened and an angel 
sang." 

A house wren arrived here only a day or two ago, 
and has already explored the cavity of a dry limb in 
which he and his mate had a nest last year. The phebe 
birds have built on a beam under the shed, and the 
three white eggs are nearly ready to hatch. Both birds 
assist in incubation. Last summer a pair of humming 
birds built a nest in a large tree nearest the house. It 



A DAY IN AN OLD ORCHARD. 139 

was saddled on the upper side of a dry limb, but almost 
hidden by other green branches. It was the daintiest 
little bit of architecture, exquisitely lined, and orna- 
mented on the outside with patches of green moss, so 
as almost exactly to resemble the color of the limb. 
A high wind in the fall broke off the branch, which 
my friend saved for me, with the nest still firmly 
attached. 

While I was sitting on the fence, listening to a flock 
of gold finches overhead in a tree, I saw a large wood- 
chuck in the adjoining clover field come out of his bur- 
row under an oak to feed on the clover. I kept quiet 
until he was quite as far from his burrow, triangularly 
as I was, when I concluded to give him a race. He 
saw the movement and started for the oak. I had a 
little the advantage in the distance and kept it, and 
stuck my foot into the entrance of the burrow just 
ahead of him. He seemed to realize fully that he was 
beaten, and made no attempt to escape, but cuddled 
down in the grass, as much as to say, " I am at your 
mercy ; do with me as you please." I had no desire to 
do him harm, and only gave chase to see the ungainly, 
billowy movements that he makes in running, though 
perhaps his appearance was no more ludicrous to me 
than mine to him ; either way, I puffed much worse 
than he did. After looking for a few minutes at his 
fine face, but uncouth body, covered with its rusty. 
shaggy coat, I moved off and left him free to take 
possession of his hiding place. This seemed also to 
astonish him, for he did not move until I was two 



140 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

or three rods away, when he very cautiously crept 
under cover. 

Several red squirrels interested me by their lively 
antics. They were running on the zigzag rail fence, 
then up and down this tree and that, then sometimes 
passing from one tree top to another, cackling and 
chattering and barking like little dogs. They lived in 
the barn during the winter, and are as much at home 
here as are the cat and dog, which are too fat and lazy 
to catch them. When I was here last fall, it seemed 
that there was a squirrel for each tree. They made a 
business of throwing apples from the tall trees, on the 
house, into the grass and walks, and sometimes on per- 
sons' heads. They seemed to be doing it for fun, in 
very wantonness, as bushels which were thrown down 
were unbitten, but the old gentleman would not let the 
boys shoot them. He said, " there was fruit enough for 
all, and the squirrels were only helping to gather his 
cider apples." „ 

Paradoxical as it may seem, when I came away from 
the old orchard I left the flowers and singing birds, all 
the pretty nests and frolicsome squirrels just as I found 
them. Still, I brought them away with me, and have 
added them to my valuable collection — a collection 
whose preservation requires neither alcohol nor arsenic. 



AUTUMN VISITORS. 



"Along the hills wild asters lend to greet 
The roadside's wealth of golden rod; 

And hy the fences, the iright sumachs meet 
The morning light of God." 



AUTUMN VISITORS. 



For some reason many of the song birds became silent 
earlier than usual this year : the extended drouth may 
have had something to do with it, but from the first 
week in August till the 10th of September there was so 
universal a hush among them that the woods and fields 
were lonely places, lacking their greatest charm. The 
middle of September brought a change, and for a few 
succeeding days glad voices rang out again in favored 
places almost as joyously as in leafy June. Robins, 
blue birds, song sparrows, gold finches and vireos took 
up their songs again, and gave us a real touch of spring. 
The high-hole uttered his melodious love call from his 
perch in the dead tree top, and the cuckoo sent his sono- 
rous coo, coo ! echoing through the woods only a day 
or two before the autumn equinox. Some of these birds 
come back to their old haunts and sing in the trees 
where they nested months before. These few days of 
song become a kind of second spring, just as the soft, 
hazy days that come a little later are the second, or 
Indian summer. They are the precious days of the 
naturalist, who visits, or longs to visit, all the old 
familiar places that were so dear to him earlier in the 
season. 



144 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

A daily walk leads me past two wide-spreading elms 
that overhang the street. In June, for the last two or 
three years, in each of these a pair of warbling vireos 
have had a nest, and each fall, months after the young 
have flown away, the old birds come back to visit the 
place, and for several days their low sweet warble may 
be heard near the spot where the little empty nests are 
hanging. They come in pairs, male and female, show- 
ing that they have not dissolved their marital relations, 
as birds by many are supposed to do immediately after 
the young leave the nest. I know almost the very 
morning on which I shall first hear them, so regular are 
their visits in the autumn. During these few days the 
singers are sure to have a delighted listener, who loiters 
long under these trees which they have invested with 
such interest. I regard them almost as reverently as 
the ancients did the old talking oaks, which were sup- 
posed to reveal hidden mysteries to those whom the 
gods favored. What brings these creatures back to 
their old haunts, and what lands have they visited dur- 
ing their absence of so many weeks ? Do they come to 
see if their pensile nests are still swinging on the sway- 
ing boughs on which they hung them so long ago ? Do 
they wish to take another look at the dear place where 
they wooed and mated, and where their precious little 
families were watched and tended with such constant 
and loving care, or are they — provident little creatures 
that they are — looking for a site and planning the 
building of their next year's cottage before leaving 
to winter in a summer clime ? These are questions to 



AUTUMN VISITORS. 145 

be answered when birds shall know more of our lan- 
guage, or when we shall better understand the birds. 

I only know that these cheerful good-by songs mean 
glad tidings — they are the harbingers of pleasant, quiet 
days, and leave one with feelings of serene peace and 
joy — they are a sort of rounding out of the summer's 
blessings, a fuller fruition of the glad promises of spring, 
and help to shorten and bridge over the long period of 
silence that winter brings. 

A short drive distant from the city is a broad though not 
deep ravine, spreading out at the base into a low grassy 
meadow ; through it a limpid stream of water runs, in 
places rippling over pebbly rocks and again forming little 
quiet pools, where the small fish lie and sun themselves 
in the shallow edges. Many large trees are still left 
standing on the sloping banks, while in places are thick 
clumps of bushes, tangled and thickened by running 
vines. No heathen myths are needed to people this 
fair and favored spot, for, as might be expected, it is a 
great resort for the birds, which are our nymphs, naiads, 
and sylvan deities. They come to this little valley early 
in the spring and make it, indeed, a vale of song. Many 
little structures of exquisite workmanship are fashioned 
here in bush and tree, and in hollow stub, or hidden 
away under tussocks of grass, and in them are deposited 
treasures of blue and speckled eggs. In the latter part 
of May, or in early June, if you look, with your heart 
in your eyes, for such gems, you may find, within the 
radius of half a mile, two or more score of these nests, 
and, although you may look in upon them as often as 



146 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

you like, if you are careful not to disarrange the imme- 
diate surroundings, the old birds will not be disturbed. 
I have even placed my hand on a robin on her nest 
while she was looking straight at me ; then she moved 
only a foot or so away, where she remained until I had 
counted the four eggs she was incubating, and while I 
yet stood by the bush she again took her place on the 
nest, and I left her looking as serene out of her clear 
eyes as though no intruder had been nigh. At another 
time a blue bird kept her place and pecked my hand 
while I examined the nest. But it is early autumn, 
after the leaves begin to redden and the woodbine to 
glorify the fences and bushes with their traceries of 
blended colors, where the thistle and wild lettuce seeds 
are ripening, and the sweet elder and poke weed are 
purple with shining berries, when the thorn apples, 
which grow here in great abundance, are showing red 
among the russet leaves, that the birds come to this 
place in greatest numbers ; many species meeting as if 
by a common understanding and by mutual consent, 
some coming for food, some for shelter, some apparently 
for seclusion, while others are here with their last sum- 
mer's brood, which they are teaching to sing. It is a 
rare pleasure on a mild September day to sit on the 
sunny slope of this ravine and listen to one of these 
musical performances. Sometimes it is the robins, 
sometimes the cat birds, or blue birds, but oftenest you 
may hear the song sparrows practicing in the leafy con- 
servatory. The old birds will sing a few bars, then the 
young will take up the strain in that wavering, uncer- 



AUTUMN VISITORS. 147 

tain manner heard in a young canary just beginning to 
sing, often at first so little like his kind that it would 
not be recognized without the surroundings ; and so it 
will continue, sometimes for hours, the pleasantest little 
singing school imaginable. I have often heard the songs 
of these little birds in the fall, and thought that I was 
listening to a strange species, until I saw the parent bird 
near by. 

When young and old of different species are thus 
practicing in close proximity, the young of one will 
often catch the tone and warble of another, and in this 
way may the anomalous notes of many birds be ac- 
counted for ; such instances as I have previously noticed, 
in which the sparrows, in certain parts of their songs, 
utter the exact notes of the cheewink or towhee, and 
one of the creepers, the sweet whistle of the titmouse. 
A robin will sometimes sing the entire strain of the 
oriole, uniting the clearer, higher notes of the latter 
with the sweeter, mellower and more extended song of 
his own. 

The larks still remain in full force, and their shrill 
notes go up from many a brown meadow and yellow 
stubblefield. They are among the earliest birds in 
spring, and are in no hurry to leave in autumn ; it seems 
a pity that these beautiful birds, so rich in plumage and 
graceful in form, are not endowed with more melodious 
tones, as, like some boys, the} r are forever whistling. 
piercing your ears when you are listening for sweeter 
and more delicate sounds. 



148 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

Swallows are now gathering in immense flocks, 
alighting on roofs of barns and houses and on telegraph 
wires, where they flutter and chirp to one another in 
the most social way ; they appear to congregate at pre- 
concerted times and places, compare notes in their bird 
language and then separate, each going his own indi- 
vidual way in search of food or to enjoy his easy and 
graceful flight in upper air. They could not long sub- 
sist in such vast numbers, as their food supply would be 
exhausted. During a recent drive near Fort Porter, I 
saw a flock of these birds that must have contained nearly 
twenty thousand. They covered the roofs of many 
houses and the telegraph wires for several blocks. 
Three or four species of swallows fly and flock to- 
gether promiscuously, but they are all performing a 
work that should entitle them to our gratitude and pro- 
tection. All the insect exterminators sold by druggists 
would weigh little in comparison with the work done 
by these industrious little birds, yet how many of them 
are yearly slaughtered by the thoughtless sportsman, 
who is proud of his skill in shooting them on the wing ! 
A farm barn without the swallow hole in the gable, and 
the swallows going in and coming out and nesting on 
the rafters, is like a hearthstone without a cat or child ; 
yet occasionally you find a grufly old farmer, who fas- 
tens them out of the buildings and brushes down their 
nests, built under the eaves, never thinking that he is 
fighting the best friends of his garden and orchard. 
Perhaps if we tell him a truth, that his cabbages will 
grow unmolested of the worms, w^hen planted near the 



AUTUMN VISITORS. 149 

barn, where the swallows have free and fearless access 
to them, he* will regard them more leniently. So much 
easier is it to awaken a sentiment in some men's minds 
by a barrel of kraut or a boiled dinner than by exhibiting 
the grace and beauty and music and innocence of all the 
birds in the world. 

Birds left unmolested usually return in the spring to 
their old haunts, and we could look upon their departure 
for a season with less sorrow, if we knew more of them 
would be spared to return ; but we know their journey 
will be attended by danger from cold and lack of food ; 
they will be assailed by beasts, and most of all by man, 
the most insatiate of all the beasts of prey ; they will 
be shot and trapped by scores and thousands — some for 
the beauty of their plumage — but more as an article for 
food. Think of twenty thousand bobolinks shot in one 
town and exposed for sale as an article of food — these 
birds of song, that have filled the air with their sweet 
melody, in orchard and meadow, cheering the hearts of 
so many people. It is well that the children in their 
rural homes cannot witness this wholesale murder of the 
innocent. 

Probably next to the bobolinks, the robins suffer most 
from these rapacious ghouls. How can a man or woman 
eat such a bird, knowing what music was hushed, what 
affections stilled, what loss of life and keen enjoyment 
were forever blotted out of existence, that one palate 
might receive a moment's gratification. 

Miss Thatcher tells us of the bluff old gentleman at a 
public dinner table, who, on being told that " robins 



150 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

were delicious on toast," astonished some of the com- 
pany by indignantly exclaiming : What ! eat robins, 
our household birds ! I would as soon eat a baby ! A 
man who, by word, teaches that " God is love," on 
being expostulated with for shooting robins, replied that 
" he had a perfect right to shoot any birds for food ; 
that all life was created especially for the use of man." 
This is almost the universal excuse. We are sick of this 
miserable, selfish old lie. It is used as a screen to cover 
half the cruelty practiced by man upon the lower ani- 
mals, and is not half as honest as the plea that " might 
makes right." God no more created the birds for you 
and me than He created you and me for the birds. Let 
us have done with the old dogma or selfish theology, 
that "man is the grand pivot about which all the bal- 
ance of creation revolves." 

Beast and bird and plant and flower were made cen- 
turies before man inhabited this globe ; they still live 
and flourish where he has never been, and they may 
continue to live ages after he ceases to exist. The dear 
old poet utters the diviner melody when he sings : 

"He prayeth best who loveth best 

All things both great and small ; 
For the dear God who loveth us 

He made and loveth all." 



NESTING HABITS OF BIRDS. 



And oft an unintruding guest, 
I luatched her secret toils from day to day ; 
How true she warped the, moss to form the nest, 
And modeled it within ivith ivood and clay. 
And hy and by, like heath-tells gilt tvith dew, 
There lay her shining eggs as bright as flowers, 
Ink-spotted o\er, shells of green and blue. 

Johst Clare. 



NESTING HABITS OF BIRDS. 



An interesting feature of bird life is their nesting 
habits. The general plan characterizing each species is 
often so modified by place and circumstance, that in 
many instances the plan seems to be abandoned and a 
new one substituted. Some of the swallows that for- 
merly nested almost exclusively in caves and in hollow 
trunks of trees, now build in chimneys, or in colonies 
under the eaves of barns or other out-buildings. As 
the country grows older and the hollow stumps disap- 
pear from meadows and pasture fields, the blue birds 
are obliged to use other hollow places, sometimes knot 
holes in houses and barns, and when unmolested by 
sparrows they w x ill often come and build in the little 
bird houses attached to trees and poles near our dwell- 
ings. Many of the warblers have left the deep forests 
and now come to the orchards, lawns and gardens to 
rear their young ; the blue jays also now seek the trees 
near the habitations of men ; some of the fly catchers 
more frequently nest in sheds or under bridges than, as 
formerly, on rocks. 

The finches (Fringillidoe) seldom place the nest above 
a dozen feet from the earth, though a majority of the 
family nest on the ground. The tree and chipping 



154 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

sparrows build in trees or bushes ; the vesper and Tlud- 
sonian on the ground, while the English sparrow will 
put its nest in a tree, bush, vine, or in a niche in the 
wall; the song sparrow usually nests on the ground, 
but occasionally it will build in a thick bush or low tree. 
The past summer I found three of these nests in ever- 
greens, and one was occupied by two broods in the sea- 
son. Brush heaps, especially by the roadside and in 
orchards, are favorite places of this domestic little bird. 
Most of the thrushes (Turdidoz) prefer trees or bushes, 
but like the finches they never place the nest very high. 
Wilson's thrush and the brown thrashers usually nest 
on the ground, though the latter will occasionally use 
for the purpose a thick bush or low tree. The robins, 
like the English sparrows, seem to have modified their 
habits by civilization and intercourse with man, and 
build in all kinds of places, in trees, bushes, in out- 
buildings, on fence rails, and even on verandas of dwell- 
ings. Wrens utilize knot holes in trees or buildings, 
cavities in stumps and fence posts or boxes placed in 
the lawns and gardens ; these little chatterers are fond 
of human companionship, and, like the cat-birds, are 
far more musical when assured of a listener. I have 
heard one in a morning repeat his delightful little song 
of " Wren! wren ! wee, wee, butter, butter," more than 
a hundred times, just over my head and but a few feet 
from his nest ; then when I have hidden away from his 
sight, though still in hearing, he has remained for a 
long time as silent as a mouse. Chickadees, nuthatches 
and woodpeckers almost invariably use holes in stumps, 



NESTING HABITS OF BIRDS. 155 

stubs or decayed tops of trees in which to nest, usually 
excavating these cavities themselves. Occasionally the 
yellow hammer (Colaptes auratiis) will appropriate a 
knot hole in an apple tree for the purpose ; but he and the 
red-headed woodpecker (Erythrocephalus melanerpes) are 
partial to living trees with decayed tops. To these they 
often return year after year, only clearing out the old 
cavity each year. 

The swimmers nearly all make their nests on the 
ground, and generally near the water ; there are excep- 
tions, and among them notably the wood duck (Aix 
sponsa) which often hatches its young in a hollow stub 
or tree, sometimes fifty feet or more from the ground. 

The American gold finches (Spinus tristis) are very 
partial to the maple, and probably two-thirds of all 
their nests are placed in this favorite tree. They next 
show a preference for the peach, birch, and wild cherry. 
Mr. Cowell tells me that two small maples by the road 
side each contained three new nests of these birds. 
Probably the young of last year returned with the old 
birds, and so kept near one another. No doubt the 
young of former years often return in company with 
the parents and build in the nearest available place. 

A pair of phebe birds placed their nest on an iron 
rod running through some beams over a barn floor. 
The following year two couples built on the same rod, 
and the summer succeeding there were three nests in a 
row, and all occupied ; as these birds are not gregarious, 
it is reasonable to suppose that they only obeyed the 
patriarchal instinct in keeping the family together. 



156 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

The thrushes build coarse but substantial nests ; the 
wood thrushes and robins make the walls of moistened 
clay, lining them with soft, dried grass, so that they are 
very solid and comfortable structures ; to prevent these 
houses from filling with water during a heavy shower 
while the birds are absent, they wisely leave thin or 
open places near the bottom, through which the water 
can pass out. Several species of birds that nest before 
the leaves are out choose evergreens for their first 
brood, and if a second is raised it is generally in a 
deciduous bush or tree. Last spring the leaves were late 
in coming out, and of the first hundred nests that I 
examined, principally of robins and chipping birds, 
ninety of them were in evergreens ; a month later the 
number was nearly reversed. 

The Baltimore oriole usually seeks the elm on which 
to hang its nest ; the long, pendent branches allow the 
bird to build beyond the reach of most quadrupeds, so 
that probably a larger percentage of the young of these 
birds is raised than that of any other. 

Birds of the same species are partial to particular 
fabrics or materials to be used for building. 

Although the common wrens usually seek cavities in 
which to place the nest, j^et sticks constitute a large 
portion of these curious domiciles, only the inside being 
lined with the softest and most delicate stuffs. The 
cat-bird also uses sticks for the main part of the struct- 
ure, and these seem to be selected with especial regard 
to color, being dark twigs corresponding nearly to the 
color of the bird. This appears to be a general instinct 



NESTING HABITS OF BIRDS. 157 

with the feathered tribe, to fashion the nest of such 
materials as to make it inconspicuous, and harmonize 
with the neutral tints of the female bird. The scarlet 
tanager, that so delights us with his brilliant plumage 
of scarlet trimmed with black, has a pretty wife dressed 
in pale green, and the nest is also placed amid a thicket 
or bunch of green leaves, so that neither it nor the sit- 
ting bird will attract the attention of the passer-by. 

The humming bird saddles its delicate little house on 
the upper side of ,a mossy limb, and then covers the out- 
side with little patches of moss, just the color of the limb 
and bird, making it very difficult to detect it, except- 
ing by the closest observation or merest accident. The 
marsh wren builds in a tuft of marsh grass, making the 
structure partially of dried grass and interlining it with 
many growing spears of the same, thus leaving the 
rather bulky nest the least possible conspicuous, so 
that although they are very plentiful in certain locali- 
ties, especially on Strawberry Island, Niagara River, 
few are found until the grass becomes dead and thin. 
Most of the birds that nest on the ground use materials 
that harmonize with the earth, and also with the dusky 
color of the eggs, whereas those that build out of reach 
of enemies take no such precaution. The oriole uses 
light, attractive substances, and flaunts the exquisite 
structure in plain sight of man and all other enemies, 
relying for safety on its inaccessible situation. The 
swallow, guided by the same instinct or reason, fear- 
lessly approaches and leaves its nest, regardless of the 
presence of man. 



158 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

When horse hair is to be found, the little chipping 
bird (Spizella socialis) builds largely of this material ; 
hence the bird is known in many localities only by the 
name of hair bird. The nests of these birds are usually 
exquisitely fashioned, the materials being so deftly and 
perfectly intertwined that the inside of the nest when 
detached from the coarse surroundings will stand rough 
handling without injury; one can closely judge the 
color of the cattle or horses kept on the farm premises 
by the lining of these miniature nests. 

Those finches and thrushes which nest in trees usually 
select prongs or forks of branches wherein to place the 
nest, commencing at the bottom of the structure with 
coarse material and refining as they proceed ; but the 
orioles, vireos, and a few of the warblers fasten the 
upper edges of the nest to the horizontal fork of a 
branch or twig, so that when finished the structure is 
suspended from, instead of resting on, a support. 
Although these latter are all pensile nests, the orioles 
are the only ones that are swinging. This class of birds 
are the finest architects, and exercise great ingenuity, 
often to such a degree as to place them high in the class 
of intelligent creatures. 

A friend tells me that a pair of orioles built in an 
elm on his lawn, but that just after or before the eggs 
were deposited one of the branches supporting the nest 
was by some mishap split off. To remedy this accident 
the birds found a piece of strong twine and securely 
fastened one side of the structure to another limb, and 
then raised a brood of birds in their repaired house. 



NESTING HABITS OF BIRDS. 159 

Many other well-authenticated incidents of a similar 
nature are recorded. A cat-bird placed its nest on two 
bushy limbs that grew close together. The weight of the 
structure spread apart the slender branches, when the 
birds fastened them together by some fine strips of bark. 

The weaver bird has a most curiously shaped nest, a 
specimen of which is before me, sent from Calcutta to 
a member of the " Society of Natural Sciences." It is 
a well woven elongated pouch, almost water tight, 
small at the upper end, about a foot and a half in length 
and composed of strong fibre and grass about the color 
of a cocoanut. It is a pensile nest, cunningly and 
securely fastened to a branch above it, and wholly 
closed at the top. The entrance is a sort of gallery on 
one side, opening from beneath, and a little below the 
fine with the bottom of the nest. In this orifice, the* 
bird ascends two or three inches and then settles into 
the nest, being entirely shut out from the world and 
securely sheltered from sun and storm. Mr. Pohlman 
saw large numbers of these nests high in trees over- 
hanging the Paraiba River, South America. 

The summer yellow bird (Dendroica cestiva) surpasses 
all other birds in its exercise of sagacity in preparing 
for its offspring. It is well known that the cow bunt- 
ing often lays its eggs in the nest of this bird, for incu- 
bation, thus escaping the cares of maternity. To foil 
this, the cunning little warbler often builds a tall or 
double-headed nest, and if the bunting deposits her egg 
first, a wall is built over it, and the bird lays her own 
eggs; if the intruder's egg is laid after her own, then 



160 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

she works it clown to the bottom of the nest, imbedding 
it too deep for incubation. T have found two of these 
nests and have examined others. One of these that I 
watched from the foundation till the young had flown is 
in the collection of the Society of Natural Sciences. 

Cuckoos and nearly all the Columhidce make very 
slovenly nests, mostly of coarse sticks with slight lining 
and of but little depth ; while the whippoorwill makes 
no nest at all, but deposits two very pretty white and 
nearly round eggs on a level patch of dry leaves amid 
thick shrubbery, When the viroes have nearly com- 
pleted their finely wrought structures, they ornament 
the outside with bits of cocoons, wasps' and spiders' 
nests, fastening these substances on the other materials 
in a most mysterious manner. Only very sharp eyes 
could find so much of seemingly scarce materials in the 
limited radius traversed by birds. 

Chimney swallows gather most of their materials on 
the wing, snapping the dry twigs from partially dead 
trees. Barn swallows dip the straws and sticks, to be 
mixed with clay, in the water, sometimes going a long 
distance to a pool or brook for this purpose. Some 
birds have a saliva or gelatinous matter that answers 
for a cement. 

As with their singing and feeding, many birds are 
more industrious in nest building in the morning and 
towards evening. Some carry on their work boldly, 
with little regard for the presence of man, while others 
come and go so stealthily that unless you are very 
watchful you may never see the little architects at 
work, although the nest grows as if by magic, right 
before your very eyes. 



MAPLE SUGAR MAKING. 



Such beautiful things in the heart of the ivoods, 
Flowers and ferns, and the soft green moss ; 
Such love of the birds in the solitudes, 
Where sivift wings glance, and the tree-tops toss ; 
Spaces of silence, swept with song, 
Which nobody hears but the God above ; 
Spaces ivhere myriad creatures throng, 
Sunning themselves in His guardian love. 

Margaret E. Sakgster. 



MAPLE SUGAR MAKING. 



Few rural occupations possess the charm that sugar 
making does; there is a picturesqueness and poetry about 
it surpassing that of any other branch of industry ; and 
no man who had in boyhood the blessed privilege of 
spending a few weeks each year at its rugged and 
healthful tasks can ever think of the sugar bush with- 
out having his heart leap with a quicker bound. If 
ever the mind of the imaginative boy drinks in the 
sweet and tender influences of nature, that are to make 
broader and better and more enjoyable his later years, 
it is during these few weeks of wild, free life of work 
and play in the woods. 

In some of the counties of New York and New Eng- 
land, where rock maples abound, farmers tap from one 
hundred to one thousand trees each — sometimes even 
as many as five thousand. The sugar season extends 
over a period of three to six weeks. If the spring be 
an early one, a few men may tap a portion of their 
trees the latter part of February, that they may obtain 
a " gilt-edge " price for their product, as sugar made 
early is clearer and whiter than that made later in the 
season ; but generally the sugar makers wait until after 



164 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

the first warm days of March before commencing prep- 
arations for the spring campaign. In the larger 
" bushes " many of the improvements and conveniences 
are made to be permanent. A stone arch is built, large 
enough to support two or three broad but -shallow 
sheet-iron pans and a swinging caldron kettle. A rude 
but comfortable cabin, fifteen or twenty feet square of 
boards or split logs, is erected just in front of the arch, 
and but a few feet from it, to serve as a dwelling for 
the men during the sugar season, and as a storage house 
for the buckets the balance of the year. Convenient 
roads, through which the teams may be driven to draw 
the sap, are made by cutting out the underbrush and 
fallen trees. A few cords of wood are cut in the fall 
and hauled near the camp, as a part of seasoned fuel is 
almost a necessity. After two or three bright days in 
March, and while the weather is still crisp, the sap 
buckets are taken out and scalded, and then distributed 
through the woods, leaving one near each maple tree — 
and if the tree be very large, perhaps two. These pre- 
liminary arrangements completed, further work is 
deferred until the day is warm enough to set the sap in 
circulation. A warm south wind is favorable to start 
it, but a west wind is necessary for a prolonged run. 
Now commences the active work in the woods. The 
sound of the axe is heard from morning till night, and 
the clear, metallic ring of the hammer and tapping 
gouge awaken the woodland echoes ; the men and boys, 
with whistle and song, join in the chorus, and the pic- 
ture is one of cheerful industry. 



MAPLE SUGAR MAKING. 165 

A few sugar bushes are tapped with auger and spiles, 
but most farmers prefer tapping with an ax and gouge, 
as the wound in the tree heals more readily in the 
latter case. 

A small diagonal box is cut in the tree — and it can 
be done by two smart blows by a skillful chopper — a 
spile is driven into the tree just below the gaft to catch 
and conduct the sap to the bucket, which is generally 
suspended by a nail to the tree, and the operation is 
completed. With what interested expectancy the first 
burst of sap is always watched as it trickles into the 
bucket ! from some trees it starts and drops very slowly, 
as if reluctantly, while from others it starts with a gush 
as though glad to be set free and is not satisfied with 
dropping, but becomes a little stream ; this is the case 
with the few old black-barked trees, such as are to be 
found in nearly every sugar orchard. These black- 
barked trees are known to yield three or four pails of 
sap in twenty-four hours, and require frequent visits 
from the gatherer. 

Different branches of the work are now assigned to 
the several hands — those who are most vigorous and 
rugged gather the sap, while the oldest and youngest 
members, those least capable of standing fatigue, are 
left at camp to do the boiling. They must regulate the 
fire and keep the pans and kettle properly filled. The 
cold sap is usually heated in the forward pan and then 
dipped to the one back of it, where it is kept contin- 
ually boiling. After its partial evaporation, it is passed 
to the kettle, in which it is " syruped down." This 



166 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

kettle occupies the back of the arch, and is suspended 
from the short arm of a lever, that it may easily be 
swung off the fire when the liquid becomes a thin 
syrup. The syrup is strained into tubs, and then usually 
taken to the farm house and left a day to settle, and 
there " sugared off " and caked. A bush of five hun- 
dred trees will require a storage capacity at camp of 
three or four hundred pails, and even then if there is a 
prolonged run, the boiling sometimes has to be kept up 
night and day for a whole week at a time. Now it is 
life in the woods in real earnest ; the camp becomes the 
home of some of the members who eat, sleep and read 
in the cabin. The arrangements for sleeping are of a 
primitive character— a bunk of hay and a few blankets 
on the floor — but they are sufficient for the require- 
ments, as short naps are about all one gets during these 
night watches, as when two persons are left to do the 
boiling, the necessary labor will keep one continually 
busy ; if greater numbers are present — and often there 
will be a rendezvous of a dozen men and boys — the 
camp will be too lively for any one to sleep. On these 
occasions there must be a " sugaring off" at camp, and 
a small kettle, perhaps brought to the woods surrepti- 
tiously and hidden away in some nook, is always in 
readiness for the purpose. This is a proper time for 
story telling, particularly stories of wild adventures 
with beasts and Indians, and the younger members lis- 
ten until they almost expect to see some wild animal 
pounce upon them, or a band of savages spring out of 
the dark woods and surprise the camp. 



MAPLE SUGAR MAKING. 167 

There are few scenes more impressively picturesque 
than the sugar camp-fire at night. The dancing blaze 
lights up the woods, and the objects stand out clear and 
distinct, or are thrown into deeper shadow by the flick- 
ering flame ; they move about as the fire changes, and 
are both real and unreal. Some of the trees look like 
monster giants reaching their long and naked arms into 
the light, grasping for other arms — and the imagina- 
tion can make of them, trees or elves or hobgoblins. 
There is a weird look about the pale, dry leaves that 
still hang to the low limbs of some of the beeches, and 
one instinctively starts, if they rustle, as though it were 
the rustling of the garments of a ghost. The ancient 
Greeks believed that when they heard the rustling of 
dry beech leaves, a wood nymph was being born. Dur- 
ing these silent watches of the night, a pleasanter sound 
is the soft and gentle dripping of the sap as it falls into 
the buckets from the neighboring trees. Its drop, drop, 
is very musical, and lulls one like the regular ticking of 
the old clock at home. This even dropping of water is 
the true liquid melody, and falls upon the ear even 
more soothingly than the rippling gurgle of the rill. 
The charmed hour is just as the day begins to dawn. 
It is like enchantment to lie on the rude couch in the 
cabin and see the stars fade out in the far away 
heavens, or to watch the slowly shifting clouds above 
the net-work of tree-tops, until the trees themselves 
appear to be moving like masts and spars of many 
ships. Then the drumming of the partridge will 
awaken the echoes of the woods, and the robin will 



168 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

sound his silver horn ; the red squirrel will cackle from 
his safe retreat above you, and the little chickadee lisp 
his good-morning, and while you watch and listen, half 
dreaming and half thinking, broad day-light and the 
duties of another day will be upon you. As the season 
advances and the snow disappears, the animals that 
have hibernated again show themselves, and others 
return to their old haunts in the woods. The large 
hen-hawks come back to nest in the elms, and every 
day they may be seen in their aerial flight circling 
above the trees ; nothing can be more graceful than the 
flight of the larger hawks. How one envies them 
their leisurely journey in the upper air ! and, when the 
noisier crows come in numbers to assail them, with 
what indifference is the attack received ; if the assault 
is continued till it becomes annoying, the hawk poises 
his pinions, and mounts upward, beyond the equipoise 
of the clumsier and more groveling birds. 

You meet the timid little rabbit at every turn, and 
after a while it ceases to appear startled at your 
approach. The squirrels are chatty and noisy, appar- 
ently delighted with the presence of man. The bird 
that pleases you most and startles you oftenest as it 
goes whirring through the woods is the partridge. You 
may find the hen nesting in some open place soon after 
the snow is off the ground, while the male bird will 
reassure her by his martial drumming from some moss- 
covered log in an adjoining thicket. It would indeed 
be a lonely woods in which there w T ere no squirrels or 
partridges. Would to heaven that laws could be so 



\ 



MAPLE SUGAR MAKING. 169 

made and enforced that these beautiful creatures might 
be better protected and become more numerous. Their 
presence is as necessary to give a charm to the woods 
as are the plants and flowers. If the sugar bush is 
next to the clearing, the fauna and early flora will both 
be more .abundant and interesting, and you will have 
the daily companionship of blue birds, robins, jays, nut- 
hatches, woodpeckers and song-sparrows, and before 
the season closes, some of the most beautiful and inter- 
esting early flowers will show themselves above the 
decaying leaves. The woods are not only filled with 
pleasant sights and sounds, but the sweetest odors fill 
the air ; the limpid sap is fragrant with the essence of 
maple ; the bark of trees, the chips and newly cut 
wood, all send out their subtle tribute of incense to 
mingle with that of the plants and flowers which are 
just starting into life ; the dead leaves that have lain 
all winter beneath the snows have a pleasant, earthy 
smell, and even the old crumbling logs reddening in 
decay, have about them the very essence of the aroma 
of the woods. When several sugar bushes are contig- 
uous, it is a pleasant sight to see the blue and gray 
smoke curling above the tree-tops during the day, 
and the gleaming fires marking the whereabouts of a 
dozen camps at night. The provisions are sent from 
the farm house, and they are such provisions as can be 
prepared only by loving hands at home, and are eaten 
with a relish known only to those who labor and eat in 
the woods : everything tastes well, as at a picnic — even 
the salt pork has a most appetizing flavor — especially if 



170 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

it comes raw and can be cooked in the glowing embers, 
held on the point of a sharpened stick. How generous 
the hens are in their supply of eggs at sugaring time ! 
Large quantities always find their way to the woods. 
The sugar camp is better than a water-cure for a man 
fretting with dyspepsia. Sometimes there are several 
days between the runs, in which the sap will not start 
at all — the weather being too hot or too cold. Freez- 
ing nights and sunshiny days are favorable conditions 
for its free circulation in the trees. Burroughs says : 
" A day that will bring the bees out of the hive will 
bring the sap out of maple trees. It is the fruit of the 
equal marriage of the sun and frost." No class of 
people note the changes of the weather more closely, 
watching the fulfillment of all signs, than the sugar 
makers. When the piping of the frogs is heard in low 
places, three more sap runs are predicted, as it is 
believed the frogs will be frozen in three times after 
their first appearance. Sugar made after the buds 
begin to start is salvy and will not cake well, and later, 
it will not granulate or crystallize at all, but is stringy 
and has a strong, disagreeable flavor, very different 
from the sparkling cakes made when the trees were 
first tapped : this must be nature's hint that the sweet 
blood of the tree is needed for other uses ; at least, it is 
a hint that the sugar season is over. 

Other urgent work usually compels the sugar makers 
to leave the bush immediately after the last "run" 
until the first hurry of fence and garden making is 
over, when all hands return to the woods to gather, 



MAPLE SUGAR MAKING. 171 

scald and house the buckets and storage tubs. What a 
transformation will have taken place in the woods dur- 
ing the two or three weeks' absence ! The roads and 
paths are no longer familiar. The leaves that haA r e 
put forth, as by magic, have changed the appearance of 
everything. One hardly knows the old sugar camp, so 
altered are all its surroundings. It has become like a 
scene of enchantment. Shady bowers and leafy grot- 
toes are on every side. One can hardly see the sky 
through the dense foliage of the beeches and maples. 
It is the season of the migration of the Dendroicas. 
These bright-winged birds flitting through the branches 
give a topical look to the scene. Prominent among 
them are the Blackburnian warblers, with throats of 
flame. The yellow-rumped warbler, like a rainbow in 
color, lisps his thin song high in the tree-tops. 

The red-start, with black and orange contrasting with 
the bright yellow, displays to advantage this rich 
plumage as he opens and shuts his wings like the large 
showy butterflies, which he much resembles. The 
scarlet tanager carols serenely from his perch in a tall 
tree, or sits among the low branches earnestly and 
almost sadly calling, " chip, herd ! chip, herd ! " until 
a companion answers the call, when away they fly, to 
give color to another part of the woods. The partridge, 
now from his unseen log, beats his muffled drum just 
beside the path. The chipmunks have lost their fear, 
knowing their safe hiding-places so near at hand, and 
will saucily chipper almost under your feet. Thousands 
of honey bees hum about the ropy sap that is still ooz- 



172 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

ing out on the shady side of the trees. Occasionally 
you find a beautiful white-bellied deer mouse drowned 
in the half -filled buckets. 

The housekeepers of the woods have everywhere put 
down carpets, whose warp of green is filled in with the 
woof of bright blossoms. 

The ferns have unwound their downy coils, and their 
spreading fronds fill the air with an herby perfume. 
The thrifty green leeks look better than they taste, and 
taste better than they smell. Everywhere the ground 
is decorated with erythroniums, trilliums, dicentras, 
spring beauties and cardamines. But these aesthetic 
attractions are not the only objects of interest to at 
least the younger members of the sugar makers. 
Where is the country boy that does not know, as well 
as the squirrel does, where everything grows that is 
good to eat or to gnaw upon ? The aromatic black birch, 
the young wintergreen, the fragrant spice bush and 
slippery "elm all belong to his out-door larder. 

The chief profit of these few days of pleasant labor 
in the woods does not lie in the amount of sugar made, 
although the yield may be abundant, and it is the most 
healthful and toothsome of sweets — the money value of 
the product is the least part ; but it consists in what 
the mind has absorbed of the spirit of nature by this 
closer contact with her ; the imagination has been fed 
on wholesome food ; the love of the country has been 
nourished, every physical sense has been quickened and 
strengthened, and the mind has been made richer by 
a better knowledge of the real living thiilgs of earth. 



DANGER OF AN EARLY 

EXTINCTION OF SONG BIRDS. 



" Tliinh of your ivoods and orchards ivithout birds ! 
Of empty nests that cling to boughs and beams 
As in an idiot's brain remembered words 
Hang empty 'mid the cobwebs of his dreams." 

" What! would you rather see the incessant stir 
Of insects in the ivindrows of the hay, 
And hear the locust and the grasshopper 
Their melancholy hurdy-gurdies play ? 
Is this more pleasant to you than the whir 
Of meadow-lark, and her siveet roundelay, 
Or twitter of little fieldfares, as you take 
Your nooning in the shade of bush and brake" 

Longfellow's "Birds of Killingworth. 



DANGER OF AN EARLY EXTINCTION OF 
SONG BIRDS. 



The wide-spread slaughter of the birds is a far more 
serious matter than is generally supposed, not only in 
its aesthetic and humane bearings, but also in its relation 
to man's physical comfort and well-being. 

The means by which the wicked slaughter may be 
checked is therefore a problem that should engage the 
attention of the practical utilitarian as well as the 
humane naturalist. 

The preservation of the birds means not only the 
preservation of the most charming creatures that 
minister to man's higher enjoyments, but it means the 
preservation of our fruits and flowers, our vines and 
vegetables, grain fields and grassy lawns ; it means 
freedom from the most annoying insects and other 
troublesome creatures, that, if left to multiply, would 
render life a burden and some sections uninhabitable. 
Neighborhoods and countries are already paying the 
penalty of their unwise dealings with their feathered 
friends. In France several species have already been 
exterminated, and a failure of agricultural products 
have followed in consequence. In Italy also, where the 
highest ambition of the shiftless class seems to be to kill 



176 



HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 



enough small birds for the table, a cry of distress goes 
out concerning the ravages of destructive insects. Eng- 
land, foreseeing this danger, wisely concluded that it 
w T as no longer safe to allow every idle, selfish, irrespon- 
sible man and boy to " become a law unto himself " 
in this matter, and that as moral suasion failed, the 
stronger arm of the law was necessary to protect the 
interests of those whose rights were disregarded by the 
lawless. Stringent bird laws were enacted, and as a 
result, several species of song birds in England are 
again on the increase. 

I do not believe we have a single native bird that is 
not a greater creditor than debtor to man, while nearly 
all species are entirely useful, conferring only benefits 
and inflicting no injury. When unmolested by man, 
wonderfully well do they fill their places in the econ- 
omy of nature. Among them are fitting workers in the 
air, the swamps, the forests, along water-courses, in 
orchards, gardens, meadows, grain fields and pastures, 
busy all the day in their priceless feeding services, yet 
most of them finding time to still farther gladden the 
world bj their minstrelsy. 

In usefulness, the thrush family doubtless stands 
first. The benefits conferred on husbandry by them 
are incalculable. This family work principally on the 
surface of the earth, devouring in great numbers all 
manner of worms, grubs, harvest-flies, beetles, cater- 
pillars, and other creeping things that prey on roots and 
stalks of vegetation. In this service no others excel 
the robins, the most familiar of the thrushes ; these are 



DANGER OF AN EARLY EXTINCTION OF SONG BIRDS. 177 

busy early and late, faithful laborers in lawns and fields, 
protecting them against their two worst enemies, grubs 
and earth-worms. The number of these destroyed by 
one robin in a season is enormous. A pair have been 
known to bring to one brood of young more than 3,000 
earth-worms, and that, too, when the birds were sur- 
rounded by ripe fruit which was left unmolested. 

The destruction alone of the cut-worms, saves annual- 
ly to the farmers millions of dollars, more, in fact, than 
enough to pay the injury done by all the birds in 
America. These worms, so destructive to many kinds 
of roots and cereals, come out of the earth at night to 
feed. Before they get back the robins breakfast on 
them. All the thrushes are early risers, and from this 
well-known trait comes the truism, "The early bird 
catches the worm." 

The swallows are on the wing most of the day clear- 
ing the air of gnats, small flies and mosquitoes. The 
number of insects destroyed by these aerial birds is 
enormous. No one can charge the swallows with 
injuring anything that belongs to man, or of eating any 
mite which by any means could be converted by him 
into food or raiment. All the fly-catchers are co-work- 
ers with the swallows, taking their food on the wing. 
They are entirely insectivorous, and each one literally 
" worth its weight in gold." 

The climbers seem to have been especially created 
for the protection of the trees, and well do they fulfill 
their mission. They are provided with strong claws 
and stiff acuminate tail quills to assist in climbing. 



178 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

Their bills are long and sharp for chiseling through 
bark and decayed wood. The muscles of the neck are 
strong, enabling them to make rapid and powerful 
strokes, while the lengthened tongue is provided with 
barbs for pulling out the hidden insects. A pair of 
woodpeckers will eat in a season thousands of insects, 
and will destroy the eggs and larvae of more imbedded 
in the bark, 'which, if left, would produce millions to 
prey upon the life of the trees. 

Many orchards of small fruits, such as cherries, 
plums, quinces and pears, have been entirely destroyed 
simply through the misguided farmers, who, mistaking 
their valuable services for injuries, killed these wood- 
peckers as fast as they appeared. No wonder that 
forests decay, and fruit trees become valueless, when 
their friends and protectors are killed that their enemies 
may live and flourish. 

The golden-winged, the most beautiful as it is one of 
the most useful of this class, has been so persecuted by 
the collectors, that the number is becoming very small, 
with a prospect of an early extinction. 

Clearing the leaves of fruit and shade trees, of 
insects' eggs and larvae is largely performed by the 
active and ever-busy wrens and sweet-voiced vireos ; 
while the creepers and warblers perform the same office 
to the trees in the deeper forests. 

The cuckoos and orioles are invaluable in ridding the 
foliage of canker worms, and if they were allowed to 
live and multiply, as they naturally would, we should 
not be troubled with the unsightly worms' nests that 



DANGER OF AN EARLY EXTINCTION OF SONG BIRDS. 179 

disfigure and rain so many apple and wild cherry 
trees. 

Our native sparrows live almost wholly on insects 
and the seeds of troublesome weeds. 

Space will not allow the continuance of this enumer- 
ation, but this kind of services expresses only in small 
part the valuable uses for which we should hold the 
birds in great favor. They minister in a large degree 
to our intellectual enjoyments ; to our love of nature 
in its most attractive forms ; to our taste for beauty 
and music — not in equal measure, it is true, to the igno- 
rant, the uncultured, the unimaginative — but to people 
of refinement, endowed with sensibility and imagina- 
tion, the birds are large elements in the sum of inno- 
cent pleasure. 

Men are generally slow to realize the danger of los- 
ing that which is apparently abundant, especially if it 
costs nothing. One sees this in the wanton destruction 
of useful forests and in the lavish waste of quantities 
of valuable timber, but in nothing else is this shown so 
clearly as in the senseless and wicked waste of bird life. 
It seems difficult to make people understand the pres- 
ent causes which, unless speedily checked, will surely 
lead to the extermination of several species of our 
native birds, and among them several that are the most 
useful and interesting. 

Let us examine a few of these causes, some of which 
have long existed, and others that are of recent origin. 
Among the latter are the English sparrows, which are 
driving our native birds out of villages and cities more 



180 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

rapidly and just as surely as some of the hardier exotics 
are crowding out many of the more delicate wild 
flowers. Our shy retiring song birds will not stay sur- 
rounded by such a horde of nois} r , scolding gamin: 
besides, the sparrows occupy most of the nesting places 
of such birds as the wrens, martins, blue birds, etc. — 
only a limited number of birds will occupy a given area 
in the nesting season. 

A denser population and a rapid disappearance of the 
forests have had their influence in diminishing the 
number of the sylvias, especially those of bright plum- 
age whose safety depends largely on secure hiding 
places. 

The dangers attending the spring and fall migrations 
are rapidly multiplying. The countries over which the 
birds pass are becoming gauntlets of destruction. The 
colored population and the "poor whites" of the south, 
now quite generally provided with fire-arms, kill vast 
numbers of robins, golden-winged woodpeckers, larks 
and bobolinks for food. The accounts from some of 
the localities are most distressing. A paper in Yirginia 
noted last fall the fact that trappers with nets were hav- 
ing great success catching the fat robins that stopped to 
feed : that some experts caught three and four thousand 
a day. In the swamp during a fall of snow other u pot 
hunters " were each shooting several hundred a week. 
At certain seasons the markets of the border States 
are more plentifully supplied with small birds than 
with any other products. No wonder that each suc- 
ceeding spring brings back fewer of our friends. 



DANGER OF AN EARLY EXTINCTION OF SONG BIRDS. 181 

Light-houses are on the increase, and as the birds fly 
mostly at night, these beacons of safety to man become 
sources of peculiar clanger to the birds. Thousands 
have been killed on Bedloe Island, attracted by the 
light on the Statue of Liberty. It is said that this light 
can be seen by the naked eye twenty miles or more 
away. One morning the superintendent picked up 
1,375 birds that had perished the night previous by fly- 
ing against the light. During these flights by night, 
violent storms beat many to the earth, while thousands 
perish by being driven out to sea. The earlier migrants 
often suffer greatly by stress of weather in the spring, 
not so much with the extreme cold as for the lack of 
food. When the ground and trees are covered with ice 
the food supply of many species is almost entirely cut 
off : it then becomes a question of famine endurance. 

The decrease in larger game also works against the 
smaller birds. Men and boys, called sportsmen, go out 
to shoot. If they cannot find quails and plover, robins 
and bobolinks will do. If there are no pigeons and 
partridges, larks and flickers may fill their place. If 
these are scarce, then the smaller birds must become 
the prey. They came out to shoot and must have their 
sport. Sport ! oh, cruel misnomer ; how many millions 
of beautiful, innocent lives have been sacrificed in thy 
name ! The Sabbath is particularly a day of terror 
and death to birds. Hundreds of men and boys from 
cities and villages go out into the country with guns 
for recreation. They shoot indiscriminately every wild 
creature they meet. I have found them with dozens of 



182 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

song sparrows, thrushes, blue birds and orioles. Some 
mornings, in a distance of ten miles, I have seen eight 
or ten of these marauders. With no warrant and no 
assistance, one is powerless to redress the wrong. The 
legislatures should pass a law prohibiting the carrying 
of a gun on Sunday. Every person found prowling 
around the country with guns, or other murderous 
weapons, should be liable to arrest at sight, without 
further process of law. Many students in ornithology 
are exceedingly wasteful of life, often foolishly and 
cruelly so. The rarer becomes a species the less the 
chances that any will escape. Every ambitious col- 
lector is anxious for a specimen, and is alert to obtain 
it. It matters not that the species has been often 
described, its structures and habits well known — the 
bird must pay with its life the penalty of being rare. 
Bradford Torrey, who, without gun, has become so 
familiar with New England birds, heard in the White 
Mountains the song of a thrush not supposed to belong 
to that locality. On his return to Boston he published 
the incident. It was doubted by an ambitious ornithol- 
ogist, w^ho, with gun in hand, set out for the locality. 
He found the thrush as described, and with it five or 
six others, all of which he shot, thus annihilating the 
colony. It is almost as much as its life is worth for a 
scarlet tanager, summer red bird, or a rose-breasted 
grosbeak to show itself. A well-known taxidermist 
has killed and put up several hundred rose-breasted 
grosbeaks and indigo birds. Another ornithologist 
says " he ought to know a certain shy warbler, as he 



DANGER OF AN EARLY EXTINCTION OF SONG BIRDS. 183 

has brought down his hundreds of them from the tops 
of tall hemlocks." Do you tell me this was in the 
cause of science ? Out upon the pursuit in such a spirit ! 
It is a burlesque on science, a travesty on the study of 
natural history. 

It is a curious fact that although birds as a class are 
the most innocent, the most beautiful and musical of 
living creatures, they are more preyed upon by man 
and beast and crawling reptiles than any other beings. 
Cats, weasels, skunks, squirrels, ferrets, muskrats, 
mink, foxes and snakes, all prey upon them, killing the 
old birds and eating the eggs and young ; in many cases 
getting nearly their living on the birds. They have rob- 
bers, too, in their own class. Hawks, owls, crows, jays, 
shrikes and one or two species of blackbirds are canni- 
bals in their way. One can indorse the terse, strong 
language of Dr. Abbott, the naturalist : "A creature 
that will destroy a song-bird's nest is a pest, and 
whether furred, feathered, four-legged or a boy, ought 
to be exterminated." 

The Agassiz Association, itself a worthy organization, 
with laudable aims, soon had thousands in its ranks 
who degenerated into mere specimen gatherers. The 
egg-collecting craze infected boys alike in cities, villages 
and rural districts. The country was scoured far and 
near for nests and eggs. Lawns, hedges, orchards, 
fields and highways were mercilessly ransacked, and 
every nest common or rare despoiled ; even cemeteries, 
always favorite resorts for the birds, were not exempt 
from the destroyer. Within the last feAv years millions 



184 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

of eggs have thus been destroyed, and little scientific 
knowledge gained by this manner of study. Not one 
egg in a thousand was preserved two months ; not many 
of them that number of days. I have had thousands 
brought to me by boys for identification. In answer 
to questions, I more frequently found that the boys had 
little or no knowledge of the subject, often not knowing 
what species they had robbed. These eggs were to 
them as so many marbles, or other toys, trophies, 
valuable only as objects of barter, but the effects on 
the bird population were none the less injurious. Many 
of the older members, claiming to be engaged in the 
investigation of science, go forth maiming and killing 
their thousands of the commonest birds, those that 
every intelligent school-boy knows. What new facts 
Avill these people ever give in return for this license ? 
Our birds have all been identified and described, and a 
further persecution of them in that direction is selfishly 
barbarous, and ought not longer to be tolerated. Even 
all these causes seem dwarfed when compared with the 
destruction of the birds for millinery and decorative 
purposes. If the facts connected with this traffic could 
generally be made known, a thrill of indignation would 
take possession of every right-minded person, and the 
community in wrath would demand that the outrage 
be summarily stopped. 

Unfortunately the killing is carried on surreptitiously, 
much of it in out-of-the-way places. Those who have 
investigated the subject know that thousands of men 
and boys, all over the country, are regularly employed 



DANGER OF AN EARLY EXTINCTION OF SONG BIRDS. 185 

to kill and skin our native birds. To make a living, 
each of these persons must kill at least fifty per day, 
allowing for the large number spoiled and unmerchant- 
able. Not only this, but scores of bushwhackers on 
" their own hook" desultorily pursue this calling as they 
have time and opportunity, disposing of their spoils 
on " the sly." If you would see the results, visit some 
of the large establishments where this kind of goods is 
sold to smaller dealers, and inquire as a purchaser. 
Some of them handle hundreds of thousands in a 
season. Then go the rounds of the retail fancy stores 
and millinery shops in any large city. In each may be 
seen hundreds in stock. It is the same in all country 
villages. Who has not been disgusted and saddened in 
looking through the fancy shops at Niagara Falls, to 
see the havoc that has been made with the songsters, 
to give this display of bright feathers, mounted on 
fans ungainly perched in cases, lying in hundreds on 
shelves, and packed in boxes; tanagers, blue birds, 
cedar birds, orioles, humming birds and gold finches, 
more of these skeletons in this one village than can be 
found alive in two entire counties. Here, too, men are 
regularly employed to supply these establishments. 

Attention need not be called to the individual uses of 
these decorations. You can see them on the hats of 
rich and poor, old and young ; a whole bird on one, a 
half dozen wings on another, beaks and breasts on 
others; hateful emblems of vanity and thoughtless 
cruelty, most unbecoming to our fair women and sweet- 
faced girls. 



186 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

The beautiful little indigo birds, looking like patches 
of blue sky among the leaves, are nearly gone. The 
tanagers, with their tropical brilliancy, are almost 
extinct. Never one escapes if seen by a collector. The 
flickers, with golden wing shafts and crowns of crimson, 
are hunted like outlaws. The American gold finches, 
so sprightly and musical, and formerly so plentiful in 
every field and orchard, where they were at home in 
trees or on pasture thistles, gems of jet and gold, are 
now seen only occasionally. They were too pretty to 
be allowed to live in this wicked world. 

The blue birds have had an equally hard fate. They 
naturally seek the haunts of men. They are confiding 
creatures, and too innocent to practice cunning, so they 
easily fall a prey to those who go in search of them. 
Last summer I visited many familiar old pastures and 
stumpy fields in which formerly I could find dozens of 
pairs nesting in May or June. In neither of these 
localities was there one left. They had been hunted 
until all were killed. The rollicking bobolinks, immor- 
talized by Irving, no longer thrill the school-boys in 
country meadows. Their natural companions, the 
clover blossoms and buttercups, annually appear, but 
the glad, tuneful voices are hushed. The plumage of 
these birds was attractive, and their bodies delicate 
morsels on the table — to these people "sweeter than 
song." The wee humming birds, whose diminutive 
forms should have secured them from harm, are now 
oftener seen on wearing apparel than on the flowers. 

Their shining wings and ruby throats proved " their 



DANGER OF AN EARLY EXTINCTION OF SONG BIRDS. 187 

undoing." "Where are the flocks of snow buntings that 
used to give a touch of summer to the wintry fields ? 
Where are the troops of beautiful cedar birds, of meadow 
larks and purple finches that were a few years ago so 
plentiful? 

Here are a few statistics gathered by the New York 
Audubon Society: "We know one taxidermist that 
handles thirty thousand bird skins in a year. A col- 
lector in a three months' trip brought back eleven 
thousand. From one small district on Long Island, 
seventy thousand were gathered in four months. Feb., 
1886, a New York house had on hand two hundred 
thousand bird skins. Millions are sent abroad. A 
London auction house sold of these 404,000 in a season." 
These figures tell only in small part the shameful story. 
Whittier, the kindliest of men, was constrained to write, 
" I could almost wish that the shooters of the birds, the 
taxidermists who prepare them, and the fashionable 
wearers of their plumage, might share the penalty of 
the Ancient Mariner who shot the Albatross." 

A few more years of such wanton warfare on these 
unbought yet priceless blessings, a few more years of 
crime against the " wise order of the world," and men 
will walk the voiceless fields and woods, where instead 
of bright wings amid the green foliage, and artistic 
structures filled with eggs and fluttering birds, only 
unsightly nests of crawling worms will dangle from 
leafless bush and tree. In place of soothing, happy 
bird voices, only the fretting hum of troublesome insects 
will worry the listening ear. 



188 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

Yet we have faith to believe that for these innocent 
and beautiful creatures a better day is dawning. The 
leading ornithologists, those who are entitled to the 
name, have placed themselves on record against a con- 
tinuance of the outrage. The State Legislature lately 
enacted stringent laws against the killing or exposing 
for sale of any song birds. Many newspapers are 
advocating a more rigid enforcement of the law. 
Intelligent and tender-hearted women are using their 
pens and voices in the good work, and by example as 
well as precept are becoming a power in this most 
worthy cause ; while thousands of thoughtful girls and 
boys — the hope of the future — are becoming active and 
efficient workers in the Audubon Society. 



ASEARCHFORAWHIPPOORWILL'S NEST. 



Bird of the ivilderness, dearer than Philomel : 
Echoes are telling thy notes from the hill and dell ; 
Lovers and poets delighted are listening 
When the first star in the dewdrop is glistening, 
Waiting the call of the eremite forester, — 
Lonely, nocturnal and sentinel chorister! 
Prophet of gladness, hut never foreboding ill, 
Caroling cheerily from his green domicile, 
Uttering ivhippoomvill, whippoorwill, whippoorzvill, 
Sibylline, tuneful, mysterious whippoorwill. 

Wilson Flagg. 



A SEARCH FOR A WHIPPOORWILL'S NEST. 



Friends living in the eastern part of the county lately 
sent word that " the boys had found some rare and curi- 
ous birds' nests in their neighborhood — among thern a 
hawk's nest on the ground in the woods " — and invited 
me to come and examine them. From the description 
given, I at once surmised that the hawk was a whip- 
poorwill, but as this bird is rare in this section I was 
anxious to visit it. A ride of twenty miles on the cars, 
and a carriage drive of a couple of miles more over 
rough roads, I met my friends with whom I was to 
spend a day or two botanizing and in looking for old 
acquaintances among the birds. The promise of a pleas- 
ant day was early broken, as a drizzling rain set in, 
accompanied by cold winds, that put a very uninviting 
aspect on the face of nature. My friend, to whom rain 
and sun are alike agreeable when he is in pursuit of 
plants or birds, thought the weather was just right for 
such a tramp, so after dinner we donned rubber coat 
and boots and set out for the woods. The objective 
point was the whippoorwill's nest, which is back of the 
sugar bush, in the edge of a large swamp. An intelli- 
gent lad, who accompanied us, had seen the nest, and 
was sure he could lead us directly to it. and as he was a 



192 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

boy of few words, my companion had confidence in him 
as a guide. We followed him through wet woods, over 
bogs and fallen trees, for an hour or more, until he began 
to show signs of bewilderment and discomfiture, when 
we asked him if he was quite sure that he knew the prem- 
ises. " Yes ; but he don't see where the pesky thing is." 
But when to our inquiry for the direction towards home 
he pointed to quite a different point of the compass, our 
confidence in the silent guide was a little shaken, and 
each one did a little hunting on his own account. By 
and by the lad called to us and said, "Some how or 
other the darned woods had kinder got turned around, 
but if we would go back to the clearing and again start 
right, he felt sure we could find the fool bird and nest, 
as they were at the left of the wood road near a large 
stump and a whopping big tree." So we dragged our- 
selves and our heavy boots back to the edge of the woods 
and took a new start. As another hour of wading 
through swamps and underbrush, where each bush gave 
us a bath, proved unsuccessful, we concluded to post- 
pone the search until the next day. 

Although we had failed to find the nest, we found 
many interesting plants and flowers, among them several 
orchids, as a partial remuneration. 

Coming to a little opening in the woods we found the 
ground starred with the dwarf dogwood {Cornel Can- 
adensis) and star flower (Trientalis Americana). It is 
these little flowers that give such a charm to the woods 
— flowers that we must search for in sequestered places 



A SEARCH FOR A WHIPPOORWILl's NEST. 193 

and hidden nooks — such flowers as the Mitchella repens, 
Coptis trifolia, Aralia trifolia, and epigea repens. 

The larger showy flowers may attract at first sight, 
but the pleasing effect is not lasting. One soon tires of 
even the flaming Kalmias and dazzling Azalias, when 
they appear in great abundance, and a handful or two 
is better than a wagon load. Not so with those delicate 
little flowers that one finds hidden in the leaves and 
moss. The other day, quite unexpectedly, I came across 
a bed of the little flowering wintergreen {Poly gala 
paucifolia), the first that I had ever found in that local- 
ity, and no field of mountain laurel, or swamp of Rho- 
dodendrons ever gave me the pleasure that these little 
blossoms yielded. The thought of them still lingers in 
the mind like the memory of a pleasant dream, and I 
am tempted to make another journey just to look again 
upon their rose-purple faces. 

After a night's rest we were in readiness to renew our 
tramp in the woods. The weather had cleared up, and 
the sun was shining on a perfect day. 

Before setting out we visited two old orchards, on the 
premises, and found a goodly number of our friends 
housekeeping in the apple trees. The silent lad, who 
was still with us, became more talkative, and insisted 
that " he had repeatedly seen a yellow wren in this 
orchard, and that the wrens were great bee eaters," but 
we had grown a little skeptical concerning his knowl- 
edge of ornithology, and endeavored to persuade him 
that all these little birds save his bees by destroying 
moths and millers. 



194 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

The orioles seem partial to this orchard, and already 
have seven or eight nests in it. They usually hang them on 
the taller elms, out of reach of cats or boys ; but 
the last one that we found is tied to the dry limb of a 
small apple tree, and placed only a little higher than a 
man's head. In looking into it we disturbed the sitting 
bird, which darted out past us, winnowing the face as 
she flew away with an angry scream. 

In a moment half a dozen orioles of both sexes gath- 
ered about us, scolding and fretting at the disturbance. 
There seems to be a bond of sympathy between them 
in time of danger, and they pool their forces for the 
common defense. The robins' nests w T ere very numer- 
ous here, and some of them contained the second set of 
eggs. In one tree were two chippies' nests of addled 
eggs, and in each nest was an egg of the cow bunting. 
All the spring an albino robin sang in this orchard and 
became an object of much interest to the family until 
two men from the city came out gunning, and one of 
them shot the bird. The life of every beautiful bird is 
endangered when these tramping ruffians are abroad. 
A few days ago I saw two men drive under a shade 
tree, shoot a robin off her nest, throw the bird into the 
wagon, and drive away before we could reach him. 

In the morning, on our way to the woods, we passed 
through some meadows all abloom with red clover, and 
a score of bobolinks were singing all about us, some on 
the wing, some on the fences, and some from their 
perches on the twigs of bushes and trees ; they were 
changing places and breaking in upon one another's 



A SEARCH FOR A WHIPPOORWILL's NEST. 195 

songs with little regard for the proprieties, but with no 
lack of melody. From all appearances there were nests 
close at hand, as the birds made a great ado when we 
approached certain localities, but after a fruitless search 
for half an hour we again realized what we supposed we 
already knew, that the nest of a bobolink is a very diffi- 
cult thing to find. I have found a few, and a very few, 
in comparison with the number secreted. I often think 
the cunning creatures, in order to mislead, make the 
greatest fuss when you are farthest from the nests ; 
besides, the female of this species, which alone does the 
sitting, is almost the color of the grass next the ground. 
There is more danger that you will step on the nest 
than that you will find it. 

In a stump by the fence a blue bird had a nest with 
four eggs. While we were admiring the pale blue gems, 
the male bird pleasantly caroled from a fence stake; 
there was no touch of spite or of annoyance in his soft, 
sweet warble. It was serenity itself. Never were song 
and vespers sparrows more tuneful. They were making 
up for the loss of the day before. If old Izaak Walton 
had been present, he might well again have exclaimed, 
as he is said to have done while listening to the thrushes: 
" Lord, what music hast Thou prepared for Thy saints 
in heaven, when Thou affordest such wonderful songs to 
Thy creatures on earth ! " We were tempted to linger 
long in this attractive meadow, over which melody and 
fragrance were so lavishly scattered, and the sun was 
high in the heavens when we reached the woods. After 
a search of less than half an hour our silent guide drew 



196 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

a long, low whistle and exclaimed : " Gosh ! I've struck 
it ; there is the stump ! move quiet, will you ? " And sure 
enough the whippoorwill fluttered away from almost 
beneath our feet. Her flight was noiseless, and she 
alighted on the truuk of a fallen tree, which she seemed 
to hug closely, so as to be as little in sight as possible. 
There were two eggs in the nest — if nest it could be 
called — as the eggs lay on the ground unprotected, save 
by the dry leaves. They were about the size of doves' 
eggs, with white ground work, delicately mottled with 
brown, and were of peculiar form, both ends being 
nearly alike. "When we moved away from the place 
the bird returned close to the nest, but did not take her 
place again on the eggs until we left the premises. The 
whippoorwills are very unequally distributed. In sev- 
eral counties in the central part of the State none are to 
be found. They seem partial to oak-timbered lands, 
with a sprinkling of pitch pine. One seldom finds them 
in beech and maple woods. The whippoorwill and night 
hawk are often mistaken for each other, and thought by 
many to be one and the same bird. They resemble 
each other in form and much in color, excepting that 
the plumage of the former is more strongly marked and 
the tail is round, the middle quills being the longest. 

The night hawk has a white patch on the throat, and 
white spots on each of the five outer wing primaries, 
making a conspicuous white bar across the middle of 
each wing. The tail is forked like that of the swallow. 
They are similar in many of their habits, as neither of 
them makes a nest, but deposits two eggs on a flat sur- 



A SEARCH FOR A WHIPPOORWILI/S NEST. 197 

face — the whippoorwills, in the woods, and the night 
hawks, usually on city buildings. They both make a 
guttural noise while on the wing, although the night 
hawk never sings. They are both nocturnal in their 
habits, and generally fly noiselessly like the owls. The 
whippoorwills are more solitary in their habits, and pre- 
fer the deeper woods, though occasionally they will ven- 
ture near a farm house after dark, when they will sing 
their monotonous and plaintive song during half the 
night. The night hawk is oftener heard in the city than 
elsewhere, during summer evenings, as he circles and 
dives through the air in search of insects, which he 
takes on the wing. 

After leaving the whippoor will's nest, our guide, who 
had fulfilled his mission and become quite communica- 
tive, said he " might as well leave us and follow the 
creek down through the woods and meadows, ' sucker - 
ing,' and if the suckers were shy, he knew where there 
were lots of big fool frogs waiting to be catcked." 

It was in this woods, years ago, that I first heard the 
winter wren. Since then I have heard the song so fre- 
quently here that I am always on the tip-toe of expecta- 
tion when in this swamp, so on this occasion my friend 
and I went in different directions, he in search of his 
favorite flower, the showy lady's slipper, and I to find 
the little musical king of the woods. Soon I heard my 
friend's enthusiastic shout, "Come! I've found my win- 
ter wren ! I've found my winter wren !" I met him with 
hands full of the most showy flower of the woods. It 
was a find, so early in the season, but the wren, not to 



198 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

be outdone by a blossom, suddenly startled us with his 
wild, sweet song, only a short distance away, when he 
fairly excelled himself, filling the place with wild mel- 
ody. 

The people with whom I was staying have a tame 
crow with a history worth recording. About a year ago 
the boys got possession of the bird soon after it had left 
the nest. It was so cunning that they enjoyed playing 
tricks on it. These were harmless, but the crow re- 
sented the indignities, and cut their acquaintance, and 
betook itself to the boys' father, who is noted for his 
kindliness to all creatures. His new master called his 
black pet Peter, a name which the recipient readily rec- 
ognized, and always answered to unless called when 
he was angry. Peter followed his master about the 
farm, to the woods, and to the neighbors. He some- 
times made excursions about the neighborhood alone, 
generally returning before dark. Last fall he got caught 
out in a big snow storm, and did not, as usual, return 
at night. As days went by and no news from Peter, 
the family concluded he had either been killed, or had 
gone off with other crows. 

The snow had lain on the ground all winter, and been 
exceedingly deep, but in March it went off suddenly 
with a heavy rain. Soon after the ground became bare, 
the master, who was at work in the orchard, saw, at a 
little distance, a poor, tired, bedraggled crow walking 
and hobbling along towards him. A second glance 
showed it to be Peter, the prodigal. Instantly he had 
the poor creature on his arm, caressing him as tenderly 



A SEAKCH FOR A WHIPPOORWILl/s NEST. 199 

as though it were a returning truant boy. Peter was 
beside himself with joy at the meeting, and tried his 
best to express his affection for his friend. It seemed 
too bad that he was not fully able to tell his adventures 
and the cause of his absence, but these, through other 
sources, were learned afterwards. During that Decem- 
ber snow storm, Peter was blown to the ground at Clar- 
ence, several miles from his home. A boy caught him, 
and not knowing to whom he belonged, clipped short 
his wings to prevent his flying off. The poor, homesick 
bird could not walk through the deep snow, neither 
could he fly, so he waited patiently through the winter 
till the ground was bare, and then started afoot on his 
journey. How he found his unknown way so many miles 
through fields and woods and across roads will remain 
a mystery. Although again able to fly, he will not ven- 
ture off the premises, but attaches himself more closely 
than ever to his old friend. 

While waiting at the station, on the return to the city, 
my attention was called to some curious work of a pair 
of robins, showing that man is not the only animal that 
makes mistakes. The railroad water tank is a large one 
and elevated. It rests on a platform supported by a 
dozen joists, which rest on larger beams, leaving eleven 
spaces. A pair of robins commenced a nest in one of 
these, but had not proceeded far with the work when 
they doubtless became confused with the resemblance of 
the spaces and started another nest in the next place : 
then another, and another, until each space was occu- 
pied with a nest or a part of one. The birds worked 



200 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

faithfully at these for several weeks, entirely finishing 
some and leaving others in different stages of construc- 
tion. 

Eggs were deposited in at least three, but the birds 
were unable to complete the contracts they had under- 
taken, and finally deserted their immense folly. 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN 

THE LAKE COUNTRY. 



In most books the I, or first person, is omitted ; in this 
it will be retained : that, in respect to egotism, is the main 
difference. We commonly do not remember that it is, after 
all, always the first person that is speaking. I should not 
talk so much about myself if there were anybody else whom 
I knew as well. Unfortunately lam confined to this theme 
by the narroivness of my experience. 

Thokeau's "Walden." 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 



I. 

There are four in our little party, Emily, i Anemone', 
Lady Bess and the writer. Emily is my wife, ' Anem- 
one ' our little daughter, and Lady Bess the horse. It 
will be necessary to describe only the last men- 
tioned, as she is the " active member of the 
firm," and will do the heft of the work, and to 
her the others of the party will be largely indebted for 
the pleasures on the road. ' Lady Bess ' is a young 
Messenger mare, rangey, graceful, fleet-footed and 
as black as night ; her proud and lofty step 
secured her the name. She takes the place of Max, 
who for a few weeks will literally " live in clover." 
' Bess ' is nervous, high-strung and watchful, but gentle 
as a kitten. She is a free driver, and goes with a slack 
check-rein and without blinds on the bridle. We might 
lay the lines over the dash, and she would keep the 
road and give the proper share to teams that we might 
meet. I am almost inclined to think that she has learned 
to distinguish the songs of some of the birds, as she stops 
so readily and pricks up her ears while we listen to some 
pleasant singer by the roadside. She has learned to 
pull up under shade trees in hot days, and say in her 



204 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

horse language, "Had we not better rest a few minutes 
under this tree w r hile you pick me a mouthful of tender 
grass, or gather for yourselves some of those pretty 
elder blossoms or wild roses by the fence ? " She seldom 
appeals in vain, as we are all in full sympathy with her, 
believing that she appreciates the kindness, and more 
than repays all extra consideration. There is nothing 
she enjoys more than a day's picnicking in the woods, 
where at lunch time she can stand near us and eat her 
feed of oats w r hile we sit on the ground eating dinner. 
Our journey is to take a month or more, much of it 
over familiar ground, and through several counties of 
Western and Central New York. Our longest stopping 
places are to be Honeoye Falls, Mount Morris, Portage, 
Hammondsport, Cortland and Ithaca. On the way w r e 
are to take in — figuratively of course — several of the 
beautiful lakes that give such a charm to the scenery of 
this part of the State. "We are seeking pure air, sun- 
shine and the fragrance of growing things, which we 
shall find much more abundantly by this manner of 
travel than by any other. We shall avoid what Ruskin 
calls the great mistakes of travel, " Rushing by waving 
meadows and green cornfields, on the cars, to have the 
longer time to walk on heated pavements." We are 
not in search of art galleries, cathedrals or ancient 
ruins. The pictures will be such as are common in 
country highways and byways — -loads of hay and other 
farm products, men and women going to or returning 
from market, stages filled with dusty-looking passen- 
gers, and people traveling in carriages or on horseback. 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 205 

We shall see orchards and meadows, flocks of sheep, 
grazing young cattle, and cows coming from pasture. 
We shall hear the singing of birds, and in the newer 
places, the rhythmical clinking of the scythe and whet- 
stone. 

Our fourth day from home finds us less than fifty 
miles from Buffalo. Although in July everything wears 
the look of June. The fields were never fresher nor 
the woods greener. The sweet elders are just beginning 
to show their creamy white blossoms, and the tall tim- 
othy is in its first purple bloom. The farmer may 
worry about the late season and the backward corn, but 
the travelers who were held in the city until July feel 
grateful for the tardy appearance of the dry, sultry 
days. Hardly had we left the pavements of the city 
wheii the tinkling notes of the bobolinks and the 
liquid strains of the song sparrows fell gratefully on the 
ear, a pleasant welcome to the country roads, while the 
fragrance of the wild roses and the stronger scent of 
the new mown hay were in pleasant contrast to the 
odors of the cattle pens and rendering establishments 
that we passed through at East Buffalo. The roads were 
a little heavy, but the late rains had entirely laid the 
dust, and the morning air was as pure and sweet as one 
ever needs to breathe. Farmers were busy in the fields, 
a few making hay, but more with plow and hoe were 
coaxing their backward corn. ]STot many people were 
on the road. A few couples of young folks were on 
their way to the city to attend a celebration. Among 

10 



206 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

them were " David and Dora" who seemed to see lit- 
tle but each other's eyes. He, guarding her from the 
perils of the road with an arm about her waist, while 
she rested a hand lovingly on his knee. Some bare- 
footed children were traveling towards the city with 
little baskets of wild strawberries to sell. Nothing on 
the way showed more plainly its " ear marks " than a 
country school-house with its well-trodden grounds and 
little stone play-houses about it. By the road were 
holes in the dirt where the smaller children had made 
mud pies. The sides of the house had been whittled 
and marked by jack-knives, and a panel was broken 
out of the front door. Through this open door rows of 
children could be seen sitting on hard seats — harder 
than common these long summer days, with everything 
tempting them to come outside. The little schoolmam, 
with book and ruler in hand, stood before a class. Ev- 
idently she had a morning caller, as a woman wearing 
a bonnet sat in a chair near the door. "Was she there 
to note the progress of her young hopefuls, or did she 
come to remonstrate against some chastisement for a 
school offense ? It is high time, Mr. Commissioners, 
for both teachers and scholars to be out of school en- 
joying the summer vacation. 

All along the way we heard robins singing, and as we 
passed meadows, bobolinks would start up out of the 
grass, flutter across the meadows or alight on telegraph 
poles, all the time singing us a welcome to the country. 

The most conspicuous bird at this season is the vesper 
sparrow, or grass finch. Although a field bird, he has 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 207 

a great liking for the roadsides where he can see travel 
and still have his fields for refuge if molested. He 
often sings from a fence stake until you are opposite 
him, when he will fly ahead three or four lengths of the 
fence, and sing again. If observed too closely, he will 
drop into the grass, and the song will be taken up by 
another a little distance away. The house wrens are 
very musical just now, as it is their nesting season. We 
make many a halt to listen to their rapid, rippling songs. 
In a wild cherry tree by the roadside one was singing 
and scolding by turns. The scolding part indicated 
family relations. He was on a dry limb within reach 
of one standing on the fence. A little examination re- 
vealed a small, smooth hole in the dead branch just 
above him, and a smart rap brought out the female 
from her nest in this cavity. Immediately both birds 
let fall upon us such a shower of epithets — probably all 
uncomplimentary — that we hurridly left them alone 
with their household cares. The pleasantest episode of 
the morning drive was the performance of a cat-bird. 
Several times this season, as we have passed a thicket 
by a ravine, this cat-bird has made his appearance and 
sung for us as long as we would listen. On this occa- 
sion he failed to " show up " when we stopped opposite 
the thicket, so I tried the usual successful method of 
calling him out. A few coaxing words, and I heard his 
cat call ; then he suddenly appeared on a brush heap 
by the road and commenced to sing. He fairly excelled 
himself. He whistled, warbled, trilled and talked, ex- 
celling any mocking bird that I ever heard, and as I 



208 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

drove away- it was w T ith a feeling of wonder and in- 
creased admiration for this sociable and skilled musician. 

At Alden we spent a day very pleasantly botanizing 
in the vicinity, w r ith Dr. Wende^ who occasionally takes 
a day from his extensive practice to reinvigorate him- 
self in the pursuit of his favorite study. On this occa- 
sion we found many things of interest among the birds 
and plants-^among the latter, the beautiful {Calojiogon 
pulchelliLs ). We found two nests of brown thrashers, 
both with young birds, and two or three plovers' nests. 

As we passed through the Crittenden woods, on our 
journey early the next morning, we stopped awhile to 
hear the wood thrushes, which sing here from April to 
August. The road from Corfu to the " Brick House, " 
thence to Pembroke, is a delightful one, and the farm- 
ers we met along the way were pleasant and courteous. 
Several were at work on the road, and each had a pleas- 
ant word of salutation. One remarked that " they were 
mending their ways," another that "we must be char- 
itable towards their highways, as they would be better 
on our return." It is a pleasant custom on the road to 
exchange the time of day, or to give a friendly saluta- 
tion by word or gesture. It costs nothing, and speaks 
much. It is a species of friendly culture not to be over- 
looked, and the man who gives it has at least one mark 
of a gentleman, good nature, while the one who re- 
fuses to return it, is either a boor or a bear. One man 
alone forgot for a moment his amiability. We were on 
a cross-road and wished to strike the Buffalo and 
Batavia turnpike a few miles from the latter place. To 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 209 

our inquiries of a man coming out of a blacksmith shop, 
we were told to " go a certain distance and turn to the 
left." As this would take us back again, I innocently 
inquired, " "Why not turn to the right?" The burly man 
straightened himself up and shouted, " Turn to the right 
if you wish to ; what the d — 1 to you s'pose I care 
which way you turn ? " " But I wish to go to Batavia," 
said I. " Then why didn't you say so ? " returned he, a 
little mollified. 

The further we proceed east, the better appear the 
crops. In the town of Alabama, and in this of Oak- 
field, the wheat fields are extensive, and present a fine 
appearance. 

During the past two days we have been stopping 
with our friend, the Captain, proprietor of the "Old 
Orchard." The orchard is still full of objects of inter- 
est. A part of it is as wild and leafy as the primitive 
forest. This morning I found in blossom' the largest 
white violets, and the little geranium, and I counted 
fifteen species of wild flowers usually found in the 
woods. The orchard is full of singing birds. The pur- 
ple finch, warbling vireo, gold finch, cat-bird, and robin 
have all sung this morning in the tree under which I 
am writing The squirrels are more plentiful than 
ever, and three or four have appeared together in one 
tree ; they chitter and cackle, bark and squeal as they 
scamper up and down after one another, or sit erect 
eating the young apples, which they hold to their 
mouths as would a child. The good old gentleman 
will not have any of them killed, although they make 



210 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

considerable havoc among the apples. Along the garden 
fence is an extensive row of red and white roses, just at 
their best ; and such roses ! How it gladdens one's heart 
to look at them ! If they were hidden from sight, their 
heavy fragrance would betray their presence. 

I wish I could paint the picture that lies about me ; 
the old orchard that has dropped its apples for three 
generations, the bank of roses flanking the lawn, the 
cosy log house almost covered with vines, the waving 
fields of wheat stretching away in the distance, w x ith 
fine maple woods in the background. It would not be 
complete without a sketch of the fine-faced old gentle- 
man in his arm chair on the lawn, with his two faithful 
dogs lying at his feet ; and then a pitcher of the well- 
preserved cider from the cellar would give tone to the 
picture. On the end of a log at the corner of the house 
was a robin's nest with four eggs. We were admiring 
it yesterday, but this morning both nest and eggs had 
disappeared. A little frouzy-headecl boy that they call 
" Pat " was hanging about the premises, and I asked 
him about the nest. " I took it, sir, for they are bad 
craturs with the cherries." To the question of what he 
did with the eggs, he answered promptly, " Sure, and 
I ated 'em." 

To-morrow we go to Honeoye Falls. 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 211 



II. 

Early Monday morning we were again on the jour- 
ney. The day was all that could be desired, pleasant, 
with a cool breeze fragrant with blowing over wheat 
and grass fields. Lady Bess was in high spirits, and 
measured off the miles without show of weariness. 
There are few pleasanter roads than the one from Oak- 
field to Honeoye Falls. It is almost straight, six rods 
wide, and well kept. It is a part of the old Albany and 
Buffalo turnpike, and before the railroads traversed this 
region it must have been a very prominent thoroughfare 
for all kinds of travel. The country through which it 
passes is one of the finest in the State — Genesee, Living- 
ston and Monroe counties. All kinds of crops are look- 
ing well, especially wheat, which will soon be ready for 
the harvest. In Monroe County farmers are anticipating 
a yield of twenty-five to forty bushels per acre. Large 
areas of potatoes are growing and look promising. This 
is the great potato region of the State, both in quantity 
and quality. The meadows are yielding an abundant 
crop of hay, much of it already secured. Early fruits 
are plentiful, especially cherries, which are now being 
marketed. In Mendon, this county, a provident farmer 
a few years ago planted a row of cherry trees outside 
the road fence in front of his premises, and this year 
these wayside trees have produced for market seventy- 
five bushels, and yielded abundantly to travelers, who 
have often refreshed themselves with the luscious fruit. 



212 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

Besides the profit, the trees make a grateful shade in the 
street, and add a pleasant feature to the landscape. 

Our route to-day was through the pleasant villages of 
Batavia, Stafford, LeRoy, Caledonia, Avon, East Avon 
and Lima. The extensive trout ponds at Caledonia were 
objects of interest, but the beautiful fish would have 
looked more attractive in their wild state where they 
could exercise their taste about being caught. It would 
be tame sport fishing in these ponds for trout, much 
like a chase after tame foxes. 

In passing a corn field ' Anemone ' espied a " scare- 
crow " still swinging from a pole. The effigy, as large 
as life, and wearing an old stove-pipe hat, caught her 
fancy, and turning to me she said, " When you get home, 
papa, you must make me a ' scare-crow.' " Her mother 
asked her "what she could do with a ' scare-crow'?" 
" Oh," the child innocently replied, " but he will also 
get me a crow to scare" 

At Avon we rested several hours and partook of a 
good dinner at the hotel, where we found several ac- 
quaintances from Buffalo staying. Of course we had 
to drink of the attractive-looking water, which, like 
leeks, breaks the promise when you smell or ta^te it. A 
little of it goes a long ways, and it was some time before 
any of us were thirsty enough to hanker after Avon 
Springs water, however highly recommended as the 
true elixir. 

When we reached the high hills between the two 
A vons a shower suddenly burst upon us, but as usual, 
in such cases, a good Samaritan farmer standing in his 



A SUMMER DRIVE IK THE LAKE COUNTRY. 21 6 

lawn beckoned us to drive into the carriage house till 
the storm had passed over. The proprietor of the well- 
conditioned estate was an intelligent and social gentle- 
man, and the unpremeditated call proved an agreeable 
episode of the daj^'s journey. One of the pleasantest 
acquaintances that we have formed took place in this 
way. A heavy shower caught us several miles from a 
hotel. A kindly -looking man was at the gate, and see- 
ing that the rain would be a drencher, told us to drive 
into the barn, which was open and comfortable. The 
shower turned into an afternoon rain, but the good man 
and woman of the house most hospitably entertained us 
till the next morning, and then sent us on our way re- 
joicing that we had found such companionable people 
among strangers. 

In the late afternoon we found a pleasant unf enced 
woods, in which were quantities of wild red raspberries. 
It seemed such a good place for a picnic that a halt was 
made. Lady Bess was ready and willing, as usual, to 
participate. 

We always carry a feed of oats, so that if caught too 
far from a hotel when the horse needs a bite, we are in- 
dependent in this matter. It took but a few moments 
to fill our cups with berries, whose aroma and flavor 
surpasses any that are ever grown in gardens. These, 
and a few crackers, with a bottle of light wine, made us 
a delicious little lunch, which many picnickers on a larger 
scale might have envied. The little indigo birds sang 
continuously above us, and a pair of yellow hammers 
alighted on a neighboring stub to inspect our improvised 



214 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

table. They saluted us a few times with their curious 
and rapidly uttered " wake up, " " wake up, " and 
then with that shrill scream flew away. On a little 
hillside across the road, three woodchucks came out of 
their burrows and fed awhile on the clover. These 
homely though wholesome burrowing animals are very 
cleanly in their eating habits, living almost entirely on 
clover, unless they can find growing beans, of which 
they are very fond. They are grotesque in their move- 
ments, and billow along one end at a time as awkwardly 
as a moving caterpillar. Few people are aware that 
when fat and properly cooked these animals form a 
most enviable dish that rivals in flavor the most savory 
lamb. "Woodchucks and rnuskrats had a peculiar charm 
for Thoreau, and the sight of either always awakened 
in him the liveliest interest. 

The roadsides are just now beautified as never 
earlier or later, by the sweet elders, which are in full 
blossom. Their creamy white flowers are xerj showy 
and fragrant. We ]niss them along many of the 
model farms, and often turn aside and travel miles 
of byroads where these beautiful bushes are al- 
lowed to grow wild and luxuriant, a joy to man 
and bird. There are few ornamental bushes grow- 
ing in city lawns and gardens that can compare 
in beauty and fragrance with this vagrant of 
the hedges and highways. Like the clover and 
dandelions, they are so common and without cost that 
many people forget to admire them ; but were they 
blotted from the earth, or could they be obtained only 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 215 

at great price, how eagerly would they be sought 
after. I remember traveling in Wisconsin once in com- 
pany with some people who had formerly lived in New 
England ; one of the ladies said, "Oh, if I could only see 
a hedge of elder bushes on the way, or hear the song of 
a bobolink, I might get over my home-sickness." 

After a few days passed very pleasantly with friends 
at Honeoye Falls, we drove to Hemlock Lake, a distance 
of twelve miles. The drive is a most delightful one 
over a smooth road, through a fine country. As you 
leave Lima the blue hills of Ontario are in sight, some 
of them so far distant that they seem to meet in the 
clouds beyond. In many places the road is bordered by 
the cichorium, a pleasing flower of brightest blue. On 
arriving at the lake we found the best of quarters at the 
St. James. This house is on the east side of the lake, 
a mile from the foot, and has a fine view of the shores 
and surrounding country. It is comparatively new, and 
although the largest in the region, is often taxed to its 
full capacity. The proprietors are most courteous and 
accommodating, making our stay very agreeable. There 
are many cottages near the foot and head of the lake, 
and a few at intervening points. A good road runs 
near the water the entire length on the east side, while 
on the west many of the Cottages are only accessible by 
little boats, or by foot paths through the woods on the 
steep hillsides. Most of the cottages are owned by peo- 
ple from Rochester, Dansville and Honeoye Falls. A 
few Buffalo people are stopping here this summer, 
but most of our acquaintances here are from Rochester, 



216 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

Five steamboats make frequent trips around the lake, 
stopping at the few landings, but more frequently 
the passengers are taken off the steamers and landed by 
little boats. We have enjoyed the hospitality of young 
Capt. Tefft on board the little steamer that bears his 
name, and shall carry away very pleasant remem- 
brances of the many courtesies he has shown us during 
our stay here. 

Sunday was a gala day for the young folks of the 
surrounding country. They come to the lake by scores, 
and probably by hundreds, in carriages, and always in 
couples. The young men wore their best clothes, and the 
young ladies, some of them very pretty, were abundantly 
arrayed in their summer drapery of sashes and bonnet rib- 
bons. They seemed to be very clever people, and most 
of the young men led the girls about by the hand or took 
their arms as they promenaded about the premises. 
Many of them had dinner at the hotel, while others, less 
extravagant, refreshed themselves with lemonade and ice 
cream. Of course the public piano had its share to bear 
on the occasion, and during the afternoon and evening 
the parlors rang with the blended voices of belles and 
beaux, and made one think of the " evening sings," as 
described in " Cape Cod Folks." One cynical city lady 
made some ungracious remarks about " unmusical people 
always and eternally trying to make music in public 
places." Yet I think this rustic though well-behaved 
company had a fair share of pleasure. An hour later 
and w r e shall be on our way to Mount Morris. 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 217 

\ 

A zigzag road, rising on to a high hill, leads from 
Hemlock Lake to Livonia Station, a distance of four 
miles. Many of the views along the way are fine. As 
you round the foot of the lake the Shore House is 
in view, a mile above the outlet on the west, and 
the Jaques House at the extreme foot. Here are several 
very pleasantly situated cottages, all of which appeared 
to be occupied. Six miles from Livonia is Lakeville, at 
the foot of Conesus Lake, another beautiful sheet of 
water, a little less in extent than Hemlock. 

The drives along the western shore and by Long 
Point is a delightful one, and many places, both on 
this and the opposite shore, reveal picturesque nooks 
and shaded points running out into the w x ater that 
ere long will be covered with cottages and summer 
hotels, as the tide of travel and picnicking is turning 
rapidly toward this gem among the hills. 

The morning was warm, and we frequently stopped 
under the shade trees to rest the horse and to admire 
the scenery. We have stopped on so many bridges to 
get the breeze that always sweeps up each little valley 
and ravine that Bess has learned the trick, and is sure to 
halt whenever we reach a bridge, especially if it is in 
the shade. 

A bridge always has a charm for the traveler, as the 
surroundings are generally picturesque, and birds are 
found abundantly in the vicinity. We look to see the 
Phebe bird fly out when the horse's feet strike the 



218 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

planks ; and robins, yellow birds, sparrows, and 
orioles are frequently seen bathing in the same 
pool near by. It is amusing to see the swal- 
lows come and dip their straws in the water and 
then fly away to their nests. Some birds have 
sufficient saliva to moisten the gathered materials, 
but the barn swallows dip many of the sticks and 
straws in water before arranging them in the outer 
parts of their nests. The chimney swallows do not 
pick up the material for their houses, but snap the dry 
twigs from the trees. These swallows gather all their 
building materials on the wing, generally snapping the 
dry twigs from the branches of the locust tree. My at- 
tention was first called to this curious fact in the old 
cemetery on North Street, in company with Mr. 
Cowell. We were watching the aerial movements of 
these birds, when one of them apparently tried to light 
on the leafless top of a tree. She hovered a minute, 
balancing herself, then snapped a twig and flew away. 
In two or three minutes she returned in company with 
her mate, and during an hour that we watched them 
they repeated the operation a score or more of times. 

Sometimes they failed to break the stick at the first 
trial, and after a short circle in the air they renewed 
their efforts, always ending in success. Since then 
I have seen many pairs engaged in the same labor. 

From Geneseo, five or six miles up the river, brings 
one in sight of the beautiful village of Mount Morris. 
The flats here are about two miles wide, and the richest in 
the State. Although the French statesman Talleyrand 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 219 

visited this spot almost a century ago, when the country 
was comparatively a wilderness, his eye took in the 
great beauty, and he saw the wonderful possibilities 
in store when he exclaimed, " This is the loveliest spot 
God ever made, and a region of the greatest promise." 
Wheat, broom corn, and sweet corn cover thousands of 
acres, stretching across the valley and away towards the 
south as far as the eye can reach. In one field we saw 
sixteen horses followed by cultivators. The sweet corn 
will principally go into the canning houses, of which, 
there are two large establishments here. 

Mount Morris is abundantly supplied with railroads. 
The Erie, Lackawanna, and Genesee Valley roads run 
through the place, the Lackawanna shortening the dis- 
tance to Buffalo, and the Yalley road making Rochester 
more accessible. * 

Fortunately for us we are the guests of Henry McNair, 
and during the week we alternate between his old 
homestead, " Elmwood " and his present home, " Oak 
Croft ; " the former three miles up the valley, and the 
latter in the village. Our host is a character, and has a 
history, the incidents of which, were they collected and 
written, would fill a most readable volume, stranger 
and fuller of interest than most fiction. A man of the 
" old school," courteous, generous, and intrepid, he is a 
most entertaining host. His twenty odd years spent in 
Australia were full of enterprise and adventure. He 
was one of the first to recognize the country as one 
adapted to fruit culture, and a peach orchard which he 
planted there became the wonder of the inhabitants in 



220 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

the vicinity, as it afterward proved a source of profit to 
the owner. When we get the better of his modesty and 
succeed in persuading him to recite some of the thrill- 
ing scenes which he saw enacted in that far-off gold 
producing country, it is better than the stories of the 
" Swiss Family Robinson." 

The homestead purchased from the Government by 
his grandfather, containing about 2,000 acres of the 
choice valley land, is still in the possession of the fam- 
ily, and retains many landmarks commemorative of the 
struggle of the early settlers and wild beasts and In- 
dians. Mary Jemison, the ' white woman,' who for 
several years had her home in the woods at the foot of 
' Squawkie Hill,' was a frequent visitor at the house of 
the MoNairs, and the older members of the family 
were quite familiar with many of the incidents of her 
strange and eventful life. The McNair farm was for 
many years the favorite camping grounds of the In- 
dians, and every spring the ploughshare turns up scores 
of arrow heads, hatchets, stone pestles, and other im- 
plements of chase and camp. Built into the wall of a 
well, on the premises of Charles McNair, is a large, 
round " hard head," marked and scarred by axe and 
hammer. If this stone could speak, among other 
things it might tell the following story : In one of 
their skirmishes with the whites, the Indians captured 
several prisoners, most of whom were put to death by 
torture. Among the captured was a blacksmith named 
Raddix, a man of great strength and of athletic pro ; 
portions. In the hope of eventually gaining his liberty, 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 221 

he made known his power of usefulness to the Indians, 
'who immediately turned his services to account. They 
compelled him to carry this immense stone far back into 
the deep woods, and under guard, in a rude cabin, to 
use it as an anvil. Here for many months he ham- 
mered out rude implements for his wily captors. He 
finally escaped and made his way back to his friends, 
but so emaciated with hard work and poor fare that he 
was not at first recognized by his friends. 

Mrs. McNair is an enthusiastic and practical bot- 
anist, and is the local correspondent for various botan- 
ical clubs in the State. Under her guidance we have 
ransacked miles of woods, fields, and ravines in quest 
of rare plants and flowers. 

The flora of Mount Morris and vicinity is one of the 
richest in the State. The showy orange-colored flower, 
butterfly weed (Asclepias tiiberosa), grows here in great 
abundance. Also that rare and interesting plant Pin- 
guicula vulgaris. On Murray Hill opposite, the high 
banks, we find the grass of Parnassus (Parnassia Car- 
oliniana), and near by are broad patches of the delicate 
starry catchfly (Silene stellata) adorning this notable 
hillside. In the vicinity we find the following, some of 
them common, many of them rare : Sickle-pod (Ar- 
abis Canadensis), greenbriar (Smilax hispida), celan- 
dine (Chelidonium majus), henbane (Hyoscyamus niger\ 
dogbane (Apocynum cannabinum), horse balm {CoU'rn- 
sonia Canadensis), bellwort {Campanula rotundifolia), 
monkey flower (Mimulus ringens), skullcap (Scutel- 
laria lateriflora), and that elegant milkweed (Asclepias 



222 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

quadrifolia). Some of these were out of blossom, as of 
course is the arbutus, which is very plentiful in the 
season on Murray Hill. That large, showy lily (Lil- 
lium superlum), with its nodding orange blossoms, is 
very abundant in many fields here. I found one stalk 
w r ith eighteen symmetrical flowers. 



IV. 

The drive from Mount Morris to Silver Lake, 
much of the way along the high banks of the Genesee 
River, is full of objects of interest. Soon after crossing 
the long covered bridge we reach the foot of Squawkie 
Hill. Here we drive in a winding byway into the 
woods to get a draught of w^ater from Mary Jemison's 
Spring. One can still trace the path from the spring to 
where her wigwam stood, and as if to be in keeping 
with the old tradition, the beautiful Indian hemp is 
growing about the premises. At the top of Squawkie 
Hill the road reaches the very edge of the precipice, 
and one gets the finest view to be had along the w r hole 
river shore: Although the Genesee runs through an 
old and thickly settled part of the State, yet its wonder- 
fully fine and diversified scenery seems to have been 
overlooked, and to have received far less notice than it 
deserves. One needs to drive along the banks, or in a 
canoe float down its rapidly changing waters, to appre- 
ciate it. From its source in Pennsylvania to Portage- 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. YiA6 

ville it is like a mountain brook, some of the way dash- 
ing down declivities among the rocks, and then again 
flowing gently through fertile fields. At Portage it 
enters a deep and rocky gorge, then within a few miles 
leaps three noted falls ; from these falls to Mount Mor- 
ris the stream lies deep in a wooded and rocky canon, 
and for miles its waters are inaccessible from either 
shore. At Mount Morris it again emerges into an open 
country and flows quietly through the richest valley of 
the State, till reaching Rochester it tumbles over 
rapids and down the upper and lower falls and enters a 
five-mile gorge, which for picturesqueness is a minia- 
ture of the lower Niagara. 

Silver Lake is well named, as the contour of the sur- 
rounding hills is such as to give its waters a peculiarly 
silver appearance in the sunlight, and its surface is 
often entirely unruffled. What a travesty on this 
peaceful lake to make it the home of the monster ser- 
pent, which for a season was the " seven days' wonder " 
of the world. I remember one New York reporter 
wrote of this harmless, manufactured automaton : 
" Each morning" and evening this water-devil can be 
seen lashing the waters into such a fury that for rods 
away they become a seething, boiling cauldron of fiery 
foam." The Walker House, in the grove, is an excel- 
lent hotel, and is presided over by a genial host and 
hostess. The long, deep piazza, overhung with vines, 
and overlooking the lake, is an inviting place to while 
away the hot summer days, and many who have 
enjoyed it for a brief time this season have booked it 



224 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

for a longer stay the coming summer. Being near 
Portage, the temptation was irresistible to turn aside 
for a brief period and visit these beloved haunts where 
so many birds sing so late in the season. "We reached 
Portageville just at sunset, and as we were ascending 
the hill that leads to the Cascade House the notes 
of one solitary wood thrush floated on the evening 
air ; no other sound came from the woods. It seemed 
for the hour as if the birds had all left this favorite lo- 
cality, or had stopped singing for the season ; but early 
next morning, during a walk in the woods east of the 
hotel, we heard the wood thrush, cheewink, cat-bird, 
golden-crowned thrush, Hudsonian and quavering spar- 
rows and both the red-eyed and solitary vireos ; and 
later in the day, the indigo bird, purple finch, song 
sparrow, and scarlet tanager added their voices to the 
summer chorus. It was pay many fold for the extra 
journey. In many respects this charming retreat sur- 
passes any other in its attractions for the naturalist. 
The flora is more abundant and varied, while the song 
birds are here in greater numbers than in any other lo- 
cality of the State. "What a field this would have been 
for Thoreau. What summer idyls he would have writ- 
ten of the ravine, and of the upper and lower Letch- 
worth woods, so full of rare plants and interesting 
animal life. I often wonder that Burroughs does not 
substitute for some of his barren pitch pine and scrub 
oak sections this favored region in which to make 
excursions. Like " Wordsworth's Yarrow," Portage 
will bear visiting and revisiting. 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 225 

The commodious hotel is pleasantly situated, and com- 
mands a view of most delightful scenery, on the one side 
wild and picturesque, on the other pastoral and artistic. 

You have only to travel a few rods to either woods to 
find plants that in other localities could not be collected 
in twice the area, while such birds as the scarlet tanager, 
purple finch, and Hudsonion sparrows come and sing in 
the lawn at the very doors of the hotel, and in the sea- 
son of song you can sit on the veranda and hear the 
golden-crowned, the wood and Wilson's thrushes which 
make their home in both the east and west woods. Just 
across the river, and up among the hemlocks and chest- 
nuts, I have listened hours to my silver-throated " Pan," 
the winter wren. This forest is my ' Mecca,' my fc Wal- 
den Pond,' and the days here are all too short, and the 
spaces between visits too long, and whenever I come, I 
am sorry that I did not come sooner, and arrange to 
stay longer. 

It is a two days' journey from Portage to Naples, near 
the head of Canandaigua Lake ; the second day was par- 
tially along the western shore of Honeoye Lake, another 
pleasant sheet of water lying deep in the bosom of the 
hills. The shores are less bold and rocky than those of 
Hemlock, but equally picturesque and well wooded. 
The fishing is said to be extremely good here, but the 
fish are of poor quality in hot weather, as the water is 
usually warm and more or less roily. A shower of con- 
siderable severity overtook us midway up the shore, 
and the most generous shelter in reach was a huge bass- 
wood that overhung the road. It seemed for a time as 



226 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

if the whole artillery of heaven was concentrated near 
the spot, and even our trusty horse showed signs of ter- 
ror as the flashes of lightning fell in blinding sheets 
followed by peals of thunder that shook the hills. Dur- 
ing the afternoon we routed a flock of young quails that 
were feeding by the roadside with the old birds; al- 
though the brood was large, and it seemed as though 
we could easily pick up a half dozen, they scattered so 
quickly and effectually that a half hour's search failed 
to reveal one of them ; but as soon as we drove a short 
distance, one after another could be seen scudding 
across the road in answer to the turkey calls of the old 
ones. About as interesting little creatures as we see 
along the way are the chipmunks and red squirrels that 
dodge behind rails and scamper on the fences, some- 
times stopping just ahead of us long enough to eat an 
apple or head of wheat, and then with a chipper of glee 
run along again, sometimes keeping pace with us for 
many rods. On this road were many patches of the 
showy Oswego tea (Monarda didyma). At a little dis- 
tance its bright crimson heads show even prettier than 
the cardinal flower, which also grows in the same vicin- 
ity, and in many respects it rivals the latter flower even 
on a closer inspection. All the labiates now begin 
to show color, and some of them are really 
pretty, wiiile the swails and low grounds are in 
many places covered with the Joe pye weed 
(JZiqxtiorium-purpureum) and the purple milkweed 
(Asdepias purpurascens). Nature is ever generous at 
all seasons in ornamenting by some means her waste 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 227 

places. "When vegetation ceases, then beautiful ice and 
snow will adorn the earth ; cell life will only give place 
to crystallization. The rain had left the roads heavy, and 
it was near dark when we drove around and down the 
long steep hill through the woods to the village, where 
we hoped to find a quiet resting-place after an unusually 
hard day's ride. It has been a pleasure heretofore to chron- 
icle the best of entertainment at all our stopping places, 
and we have often left with a feeling of indebtedness for 
courtesies and favors generously bestowed by both 
friends and strangers on the road. Here our reception 
was interesting and our entertainment phenomenal. As 
we reined up to the hotel to which we had been directed 
on the way, a tall, thin man of the hair-pin type met us 
at the carriage and almost embraced us in his eager wel- 
come ; he was so affectionately brotherly that I almost 
looked to hear him ask for the " strawberry mark on 
some arm " in recognition of a long lost kindred. " Were 
we tired ? Would we stop with him for the night ? 
What a fine horse, and what an easy carriage ! Were 
we traveling for pleasure or business ? His was a tem- 
perance house, and just the place for tired man and beast; 
did we wish supper, etc., etc. ? " to all of which we could 
only answer that " we would stay with him, as we were 
very tired, and quite hungry and a little thirsty," and 
suggested that at least " a cup of strong tea would be 
very acceptable." As our room was not in readiness, we 
were ushered into the public parlor to await supper. 
An hour latter the tall man made his appearance and 
announced that " It would not be convenient to get a 



228 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

warm supper, as it was wash-day with the women folks." 
Nearly another hour and supper was announced, and 
" such a supper ! " not like Bob Cratchit's, but still, 
" such a supper !" Few words would name the dishes, but 
in the mouth of other than Christians these words would 
necessarily be strong and emphatic. "We only demurred 
at the tea, and asked for headache's sake that it be a little 
stronger ; it came back still weaker, when we suggested 
to the good woman — who, by the way, was as thick as 
the man was thin — that " probably she had forgotten to 
put the tea in the pot, and had only steeped the water," 
but like " Barmody's soup," the liquid seemed to grow 
thin with each additional cooking. The hair-pin look- 
ing man, who had hen-hussiecl himself into the room, 
catching part of the colloquy, wittily (?) remarked, 
" This is a temperance house, this is, and probably the 
women folks are opposed to anything strong." The 
sickly-looking butter testified otherwise, but like most 
obituary poetry, the occasion had a ludicrous side that 
partially made amends for physical discomfort. At a 
late hour we were shown the room, which had been 
" put to rights," and preparations were made for slum- 
ber ; they were only preparations, however, for what 
with unaired feather bed and pillows, whose strength 
only rivaled the butter and put to shame the tea, and 
with a swarm of mosquitoes and other hungry little 
inhabitants, the rest and sleep were not quite what 
are "promised to the just." One was reminded of 
the inscription on a Swedish inn, " You will find at 
Trolhate excellent beds, bread, meat and wine — pro- 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 229 

vided you bring them with you." I think it was Wil- 
liam Black, the novelist, who said, " When you have 
dined on ham and eggs and whiskey the night before, 
to breakfast on ham and eggs and tea is a great relief 
the morning after," but with such a supper and tea as 
were given us last night, a breakfast like Black's dinner 
w^ould have been welcome by at least one member of 
the party. 

Pretty early the following morning we paid the bill, 
which was a round one, and went on our way weak, but 
rejoicing. Temperance indeed is a good thing, but sad 
as it may seem, truth compels the traveler to chronicle 
the fact that excellent temperance hotels are even fewer 
and further between than angels' visits. 

In contrast to this ' inn,' I remember another old hotel, 
or country tavern as it was long called, which we have 
always found so full of real comfort and good living, 
that I approach it with a kind of hungry expectancy. 
It was one hot July morning, an hour or so before noon, 
that we first came in sight of the little hamlet in which 
this house stands. It was more country than village. 
A large brook of clear, shining water, overhung with 
thick shade trees, ran along one side of the principal 
street. A long rambling hotel with broad verandas, 
and extensive outlying barns and sheds, attracted 
my attention. An old couple, landlord and landlady, 
sat on the veranda in large rocking chairs. They 
greeted us with a cheerful good-morning as we drove 
up in front of the house, and to the request for dinner, 
the kindly faced old lady said that " they had nearly 



230 



HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 



given up keeping hotel, but if we could put up with 
their homely fare, we should come in and let the boy 
take care of the horse." First, " the little girl must 
have a glass of milk ;" then said the motherly woman, 
" There is a large airy room up stairs, with a bed and" 
sofa, where you can all take a nice little nap to rest 
yourselves for dinner." The room was sweet and tidy, 
and when called to dinner, we were all as fresh as in 
early morning, and twice as hungry. 

It only grieved us that the good couple should find it 
in their hearts to make apologies for such a dinner as 
they set before us. Tender, juicy, sugar-cured ham and 
fresh eggs ; the lightest of home-made bread, with sweet 
grass butter yellow as gold ; peas and lettuce just from 
the garden ; cool cucumbers that were growing on the 
vines ten minutes before ; a cup of coffee, fragrant and 
the color of amber ; oolong tea in which the strength 
and aroma emulated each other. This would seem 
enough to satisfy even a connoisseur of the table, but 
the dinner w^as not to be finished without red raspber- 
ries with thick cream, and a generous strawberry short- 
cake. The pleasant, cordial manner of providing the 
entertainment corresponded with the wholesome things 
provided. 

We fingered till late in the afternoon, and left regret- 
fully this pleasant, restful old country tavern ; nor is it 
strange that we have driven over that hilly road, con- 
siderably out of our route several times since, to enjoy 
the entertainment provided by this real landlord and 
landlady ? They compliment us with the remark that 



A SUMMER DEIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 231 

"they too look forward pleasantly to our annual "stop 
over" with them. 

Perhaps I have dwelt too long over these two ' way- 
side ' places, but they are the types of the two extremes 
which travelers must find in a country where so many 
men think they can 'keep hotel.' 

Naples is a lovely village, lying between wooded 
hills, in a pleasant, fertile valley and shows signs of thrift 
and enterprise. From here to Canandaigua Lake, a 
distance of four or five miles, much of the cleared land 
is covered with vineyards. 



V. 



Our route from Naples to Hammondsport, by the way 
of Bath, was an unfamiliar one. The first mile or two 
lay through a delightful woods, much of it pine and 
hemlock. The veeries and wood thrushes were singing 
their morning hymns, and the warblers were having a 
jubilee in the evergreens. The early morning was per- 
fect, and the pleasant surroundings soon put us all again 
on good terms with the world. The evening before we 
had passed a party of Gypsies camping at the lower 
end of the woods. They were a hard-looking set, men, 
women, children and dogs. The redeeming features 
were three or four fine looking horses and one or two 
good traveling wagons. They exercised good taste in 
choosing this charming spot in which to light their 



232 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

camp-fires. "We expected to see them making prepara- 
tions for breakfast, but early as it was, we found them 
missing. Like others of their tribe, " they had folded 
their tents and quietly stolen away." The place was 
so inviting that the nomad spirit took possession of us, 
and we determined also for a time to be Gypsies. We 
were not at all satisfied that the " active member of the 
firm " had fared better than the others. As usual, we 
were prepared for such emergencies, having with us a 
feed of oats and a comfortable lunch of bread and butter, 
canned tongue, sardines and a bottle of ' Tokay.' A little 
farther along was an open space, with a clear brook run- 
ning through it. This place was selected, and the prep- 
arations for breakfast soon completed. Taking off the 
bridle and pouring a generous feed of oats on the clean 
grass, we invited Bess to enjoy herself. A mossy knoll 
near by answered for table and chairs, and we were 
soon busy and as much at home as though to the 
" manor born." The dining room was neat and spacious, 
with no smoke or smell of pent-up cooking. A flood of 
warm sunshine lay on the grass and trees about us, mak- 
ing them a still richer green in the light. A soft breeze 
shook the sweet elder blossoms down from their feath- 
ery sprayed corymbs, powdering us with pearl and 
perfume. In a hemlock near us a red squirrel laughed at 
and scolded us by turns, for invading his premises. A 
woodpecker drummed away on the dry limb of a tree, 
contrasting pleasantly with the soft chirp of some hand- 
some cedar birds that sat nearly motionless in a small 
maple. Just as we were in readiness to start, the squir- 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 266 

rel which had been so inquisitive came down the tree, 
and crossing the road in front of us, ran along on the 
crooked fence, uttering his saucy, defiant chitter. The 
little girl called vehemently for me " to catch him!" and 
she was inclined to be indignant that I did not do so. A 
year ago, as we were driving around the Park Meadow, 
a red squirrel, not quite grown, crossed the road and 
made for a shade tree in the grass. I sprang out of the 
carriage and gave chase, and just before it got out of 
reach in the tree, caught it. "We carried it home, where 
it became the pet of the household. Since then 
"Anemone" thinks I have only to make the effort, to 
catch any squirrel we may see by the roadside. 

As we passed out into the open country between 
meadows, a perfume, strong and sweet as rose or violet, 
seemed to fill the land. At first it was a surprise, but 
soon we saw that one of the meadows was filled with 
clover, whose blossoms were neither red nor white, but a 
kind of compromise, more nearly pink. It was the 
Alsike, the most strongly fragrant of the leguminous 
family. This beautiful clover was formerly supposed to 
be a hybrid between the red and white clover, hence 
its botanical name by Linnaeus (Trifolium-hybridum), 
but it is now conceded to be a distinct species. Still I 
am inclined to think that it hybridizes with our little 
white clover (T.-repens). Our clovers are all sweet- 
scented, particularly the last named, which is such a 
favorite with the honey bees. The red clover, with an 
entirely different odor and quality of honey, is loved 
equally well by the wholesome country bumble-bee, the 



234 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

bass singer in the insect choir. The sweet clover, form- 
erly cultivated in gardens for its perfume, has now 
taken possession of hundreds of miles of roadsides, 
where it not only beautifies these waste places, but sheds 
a delightful aroma for all who travel these favored 
thoroughfares. The old bed of the abandoned Genesee 
Valley Canal is a wilderness of this handsome and fra- 
grant plant, which is now placed among the weeds, far 
more interesting and useful in this vagabond life than 
when petted in the garden. 

In ascending and descending steep hills, Bess has had 
a new experience on this journey. The driving with 
her heretofore has been about the city or neighboring 
level country. She knew nothing about holding back, 
and the first steep hill that we had to descend tried 
severely her faith, and a little her patience. As the 
carriage began to crowd, she wavered a minute, looked 
back inquiringly, and almost beseechingly, and then 
stopped. I alighted, patted her neck a minute, and step- 
ping in front of her, said, " Come along, Bess." The fear 
was all gone. She needed no rein, but followed along 
slowly and carefully, every little while putting her nose 
on my shoulder, perfectly confident that all was right. 
She has now learned to zigzag across the roads up and 
down hills, as all teams do, down the steeps at Mount 
Royal, Montreal. The first time she did this of her 
own accord, Anemone, watching her admiringly, said, 
" Papa, Lade must have a great many thinks in her head 
to be so cunning." Our drive to Liberty was over a roll- 
ing country, thence through a pleasant valley to Avoca, 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 235 

where we stopped for dinner. As we started out in the 
afternoon, we overtook in the village two Italians, one 
carrying a heavy pole, the other leading a huge per- 
forming bear. Horses almost invariably shy at a bear ; 
not so, Bess. She sprang forward for it, and it was 
with difficulty I kept her from running the ungainly 
creature down. It seemed to be a new experience to 
the Italians, who screamed and howled upon us some 
imprecation, but they were lively in giving us plenty of 
the road. 

We spent a few days pleasantly with friends at Bath, 
but the weather was intensely hot and dry, making 
travel uncomfortable, excepting in the early and later 
portions of the day. 

Arrangements had already been made to spend a 
week at Hammondsport. So we concluded to start 
very early in the morning in order to avoid heat and 
fatigue, the two chief drawbacks of summer travel by 
private conveyance. 

The carriage was at the door about 3 o'clock, and we 
were some miles on the way before the first signs of the 
morning appeared in the east. It seemed a little weird 
and uncanny at first to start out into an unknown coun- 
try in the night, but just as the first streaks of dawn 
appeared, a delightful change came over the face of 
nature. We were well up the valley as the stare 
began to fade out and the yellow to overspread the 
eastern sky. A heavy perfume of grass and growing- 
grain filled the cool, dewy air. The sibilant song of the 
hair bird, insect like, was the first sound of awakening 



236 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

nature; then the robins joined in the chorus, imme- 
diately followed by the blue bird, vespers, Savannas, 
and song sparrows. It seemed that in a minute or two 
after the first note a hundred birds had joined in the 
morning anthem. It was one of the most delightful 
concerts to which I have ever listened, and lasted an 
hour or more, with little interruption. Occasionally 
the barking of a farm dog, or the crowing of a cock, 
would break in upon the chorus, but even these clarion 
sounds made no discord in the melodies. It was one of 
the most enjoyable drives of the journey, and when we 
came in sight of the blue lake, the shadows still reached 
well across to the western shore. 

For many years this sheet of water was called 
Crooked Lake, probably from its divisions, but it has 
again taken its Indian name, Keuka, or Ogo-ya-ga, 
meaning promontory, projecting into the lake. It is a 
gem of pure blue water, " a liquid eye in the face of 
nature." The country about has long been noted for 
its fine scenery, but it is now becoming famed for its 
vineyards and champagnes. There are three ends to 
the lake, and a village at each. Hammondsport at the 
south, Penn Yan at the northeast, and Branchport at the 
northwest. A hilly peninsula, now covered with vine- 
yards, runs down between the arms from the north. 
This old-fashioned, picturesque village is becoming a 
favorite resort for those who enjoy fine scenery, good 
boating and fishing, and freedom from dress parade. 
The large and pleasantly situated hotel, near the steam- 
boat landing, kept by the Fairchild Brothers, is a 



A SUMMER DEIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 237 

delightful abiding place. The fare is first class, and the 
friendly, cheerful service excellent. For dinner, salmon 
trout, caught the same morning from the cool waters 
of the lake, was a daily feature at table. 

Many of the drives in the neighborhood are pleasant, 
and full of objects of interest. There are flourishing 
vineyards to examine, and wine cellars to explore, 
that will keep one busy for days; and then if you 
care to learn the process of making still wines or cham- 
pagnes, you will find experts who will cheerfully show 
you all the mysteries. 

For hot, sultry days you will find shady nooks and 
rocky glens that afford cool and pleasant retreats for 
reading or visiting, or for day dreaming, if you are 
romantically inclined. 

A daily walk took us past a well-kept garden, contain- 
ing many flowers, some of them rare. We often 
exchanged greetings with the pleasant old gardener, who 
delighted to learnedly expatiate on names and charac- 
teristics of his favorites. On one occasion I was admir- 
ing a flower that was new to me, and taking out pen- 
cil and book to make a memorandum, asked for the 
botanical name. His puzzled look showed that it was 
also unknown to him, but after hesitating for a moment 
he replied, " Ah ! mon, call the beauty whatever you 
loike. Far be it from the loikes of me to tell a gintleman 
what he should call a purty flower. A pleasant morning 
to you, and the Lord bless you through the day ! " 1 1 is 
courteous escape from the dilemma is still my blessing, as 
the thought of it has since caused many a pleasant laugh 



238 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

We found the roads from Lake Keuka to the head 
of Lake Seneca in excellent condition. The scenery 
along the way was pleasantly diversified with fields and 
woods, sharp hills and fertile little valleys. Clouds and 
sunshine alternated during the forenoon, and the wind 
was equally variable. It was pleasant to see the shad- 
ows and sunshine chasing each other over the billowy 
fields of grain and unmown meadows. One could 
plainly see the spots in each that were rankest or 
thinnest by the way in which they were moved by the 
wind. The landscape was full of color — yellow stubble- 
fields, gray meadows of over-ripe grass, oat fields of the 
finest shades of light green, and, handsomest of all, the 
fields of corn with drooping leaves that look like 
rich ribbons of green satin. Corn is beautiful in growth, 
in all stages, from the little green leaf, just peeping out 
of the brown earth, to the fluted columns surmounted 
with golden grain. 

Late in the afternoon we met a bevy of pretty young 
girls returning from a rural picnic. Their bright gar- 
ments, with bows and ribbons fluttering in the breeze, 
seemed almost a part of themselves. The sight made 
one think of Emerson's expression : " The delicious 
faces of children, and the beauty of young school girls." 
It made one glad to look upon them and witness their 
unrepressed joyousness. They answered our few ques- 
tions about the way with a frankness that was exhila- 
rating. Surely there is no pleasanter sight than a com- 
pany of fair, young girls in their holiday attire, unless 
it be a company of fairer older ones. 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 239 

Two sweltering nights and one day of hard work was 
enough for us at Watkins. It was a hot morning in 
which we undertook to " do the Glen, " and long before 
night the undertaking was cause for repentance. Boys 
and girls and happy lovers may enjoy the silvery cas- 
cades, the leaping falls, the pearling pools and gray 
rocks with hanging moss, the cool, dark recesses, with 
only glimpses of the blue sky, seen through rifts of over- 
hanging rocks. They may enjoy the climbing up and 
the crawling down. Very likely they do, and they are 
quite welcome to the rustic bridges, the shady foot-paths, 
and the interminable flights of slippery stairs. The 
Glen is picturesque, grand, sublime. It is a wonderful 
work of nature, and it has had the assistance of art. I 
left it with deep regrets — regret that I carried away a 
headache, a rheumatic leg, and a lame back as the tro- 
phies of the day's toilsome explorations. 

It was pleasant to again be on the road, especially as 
a refreshing rain during the night had laid the dust 
and cooled the air, which was freighted with the odors 
of growing things. To the languid incense from milk- 
weeds and oat fields was added the more pungent fra- 
grance of the labiates by the roadsides. One thought 
of that gem by "Willis, ' Dawn:' 

"'Tis a morn for life 
In its most subtle luxury. The air 
Is like a breathing from a rarer world : 
It has come over gardens, and the flowers 
That kissed it are betrayed. 
I know it has been trifling with the rose 
And stooping to the violet. There is joy 
For all God's creatures in it. The wet leaves 



240 HIGHWAYS AKD BYWAYS. 

Are stirring at its touch, and birds are singing 
As if to breathe were music ; and the grass 
Sends up its modest odor with the dew, 
Like the small tribute of humility/'' 

In many meadows men were cutting grass, usually 
with machines, but in a few stumpy lots of newly 
cleared land they were still mowing it with the old- 
fashioned scythes. It was pleasant to hear the swish as 
the blade went through the wet grass, laying it in cool 
swaths or little windrows. Occasionally a mower stop- 
ped to sharpen the scythe with the long, glistening 
whetstone, awakening rhythmical echoes in the neigh- 
boring groves. All along we were regaled with the 
delicious odors of the new mown hay. In one meadow 
a barefooted boy with a straw hat, from which the rim 
was gone, was violently whipping the ground with a 
wisp of grass. Soon afterwards \\ r e saw him wipe his 
hands on his pantaloons, and we knew that he had just 
swallowed the delectable morsel which he had robbed 
from the bumble-bees. 

Ithaca, at the head of Cayuga Lake, is a charming 
village. We saw it to advantage from the top of the 
high hill as we approached it from the west. It was 
the quiet season at this noted seat of learning, as most 
of the students were away on their vacation. There 
was such a look of home comfort about the pretty 
dwellings, well-kept lawns and shady streets, that one 
could understand why it is such a favorite place for 
young men and women who like pleasing surroundings 
as well as excellent educational advantages. 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 



241 



On our way to Cortland we went a few miles out of 
the course to enjoy the drive over the rocky road along 
the eastern shore of the lake from Ithaca to Ludlow- 
ville. It gave us fine views of the lake and of the 
western shore. 



VI. 



Hills are a necessary feature in a pleasant landscape. 
This fact has been emphasized in the mind during our 
few days' stay in this thriving, busy village of Cortland. 
Look whichever way you will, your eyes rest on near 
or distant hills, a few still crowned with dark forests, 
but most of them smiling under cultivation. The vil- 
lage is situated in a broad and fertile valley, through 
which the clear, bright waters of the Tioughnioga 
River flow. Why the Indians called this river O'nan- 
no-gi-is-ka, meaning shagbark hickory, is a query, as 
there are few, if any, hickories in the county, the tim- 
ber being principally maple, beech, bass wood, white 
ash, and wild cherry: but there is no accounting for 
names. A stranger passing through this county might 
think by the guide boards at the corners of the country 
roads that he was traveling in the " Old World,'' so 
generally did the early settlers appropriate classical 
names in their local nomenclature. The townships in 
this county are Virgil, Homer, Solon, Tully, Lapeer, 
Marathon, Truxton, Cincinnatus, etc. The villages have 
been equally honored. Two Cmcimiatuses nestle near 



242 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

each other in the Otselic Valley. A lovely Homer 
stretches along the banks of the Tioughnioga, near 
enough to shake hands with its younger but more enter 1 
prising neighbor, Cortland ; while East Homer beckons 
to both from a neighboring hillside. One can find 
Dryden a few miles to the south, Ithaca and Scipio at 
the w-est, and Pompey a little way at the north. 

One day in company with some old-time friends, we 
drove over to the old homestead in Solon for a day's 
picnic in the woods. The trees about the farm house 
have grown almost out of recognition, but the row 
of large maples on the hillside have all dis- 
appeared but two, and they stand up, grand 
but lonely in their isolation, like some aged 
people w r ho have survived their cotemporaries. The 
beautiful sugar bush across the flat has been cut down, 
and now blackened stumps and sunburnt grass are seen 
in the place of the smooth boled beeches and towering 
maples. On the way to the woods we passed through 
the large orchard, in which every tree w r as familiar. 
Although the orchard w x as mostly of seedlings, the fruit 
was better than any other that we shall ever taste again. 
Each tree had an individual history, and nearly every 
one a name. The " Good Tree, " that ripened its apples 
so early, was missing, but the large " greening " next 
to it was still thrifty and full of apples. One year a 
late frost in the spring killed nearly all the fruit in 
the locality, but a large limb of this tree had been 
partially broken off and hung by a little wood and 
bark. The check of sap caused it to blossom a week or 



A SUMMER DRIVE IK THE LAltE COUNTRY. 243 

ten days later than the rest of the tree, so it escaped 
the effects of the frost, and, in the fall, was loaded with 
apples. 

The " Sheep-nose," a large, crooked tree, standing by 
a stone wall, was a great resort for the squirrels, which 
harvested most of its fruit. One tree bore apples which 
resembled pears in flavor. It went by the name of 
" pear-apple-tree." An old nursery, occupying one 
corner of the field, long ago became a tangled thicket of 
vines, brambles and scraggy apple trees. It was a favor- 
ite place for the shyer birds, and nearly every summer 
cuckoos and cedar birds had nests in this tangle. 

One spring my father gave me permission to graft 
the lower row of trees. The operations were fairly 
successful, but boy-like I made a " mess " of it. Instead 
of putting only one kind of cions in a tree, I thought a 
variety would be better; as a result some of these trees 
rival "Joseph's coat of many colors." In one are 
" golden sweets," " fall pipins," " pear mains," " Bald- 
wins," " greenings," " Tunecliffs," " early boughs," etc., 
v summer, fall, and winter fruit, all colors and sizes, grow- 
ing together. How many pleasant associations cluster 
about this orchard ! How many friends have trodden 
its paths, and eaten of its fruits ! What beauty and 
fragrance it provided for those who long dwelt so 
near it ! 

On the way back to Cortland, we stopped on the hill 
south of the village to get a panoramic view of the beau- 
tiful valley below. The sun had risen, and the steeples 
of the villages glistened in the light. Long silvery 



244 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

streaks of fog hung over the winding river, shutting 
portions of it and the valley from view. Some of its 
edges were just ruffled by a puff of the morning breeze, 
while here and there it rose in billowy waves and floated 
up the valley; but whether in bars of defined outlines, or 
in undulating waves, it seemed the poetical feature in 
the landscape. The ancients supposed the mists and 
vapors to be the breath of the river gods. Buskin inter- 
prets the fog to be the Daphne of Grecian mythology, 
and the sun dispelling it, Apollo. He says " Daphne is 
the daughter of one of the great river gods of Arcadia; 
the earth is her mother; she, in her first fife, is the mist 
filling the valley; the sun pursuing, and effacing it from 
dell to dell, is literally Apollo pursuing Daphne." 
Emily suggests that " more likely these mists are the 
curtains that Amphitrite hangs before her beautiful 
nymphs while they are making their morning toilets." 
But all fanciful interpretations were dispelled by little 
Anemone, who innocently said, " Why, mamma, that is 
only fog hanging over the river." 

The journey back to Buffalo was more direct, but 
made by easy stages, much of it in the early morning, 
or late in the afternoon. At no time did we hurry; but 
whenever the horse showed any signs of weariness, we 
looked for the nearest place of entertainment. Nothing 
tires a sympathetic driver more than to ride after 
a fatigued or hungry animal. In pleasantly discours- 
ing of " Road Horses," in .the April Atlantic, H. C. 
Merwin says : " In fact, a good roadster is something 
like a satisfactory bank account — your pleasure in his 



A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 24:5 

capacity is great, almost in proportion as the drafts 
which you make upon it are small." In the forty-five 
clays' journey we traveled something over one thousand 
miles directly, or in short-side excursions. We returned 
brown and hearty, with good appetites, and in good 
condition to sleep. Lady Bess had gained several 
pounds, and her coat was fine and glossy. Had she 
been asked the following morning if she was ready to 
repeat the journey, I think she would have nodded her 
head and whinnied, 'yes.' 



ORNITHOLOGICAL 

NOMENCLATURE. 



ORNITHOLOGICAL NOMENCLATURE. 



To many, nomenclature has been a puzzling factor in 
the study of ornithology. Until a recent period the 
scientific names have been so often changed, and so mul- 
tiplied, that one found he had as much to unlearn as to 
learn. Happily that has changed, and henceforth we 
may expect something like the same permanency in this 
classification that we have in that of botany and in most 
of the other sciences. 

The committee appointed by the " Ornithological 
Union," have agreed on a uniform system, and have 
lately issued a ' Check List,' which is to be the estab- 
lished text with ornithologists. 

As a convenience to those who are interested in the 
subject, and who have not ready access to more preten- 
tious works, I have subjoined a list of common and sci- 
entific names to all, or nearly all, the birds seen in this 
locality, omitting the water birds, birds of prey, and 
some of the game birds. 

Bobolink (Doliclionyx oryzivorus) 

Cow Bird (Molotlirus ater) 

Red-winged Blackbird (Agelaius pTiceniceus) 

Meadow Lark (Stuniella magna) 

Orchard Oriole {Icterus spurius) 

Baltimore Oriole • (Icterus galbula) 

Rusty Blackbird (Scolecopliagus carol inns) 



250 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

Crow Blackbird ( Quiscalus quiscula) 

Evening Grosbeak (Coccothranstes vespertina) 

Pine Grosbeak (Pinicola eneucleator) 

Purple Finch {Carpodacus purpureits) 

American Crossbill {Loxia curvirostra minor) 

White-winged Crossbill {Loxia leucoptera) 

Common Eedpoll {Acanthis linaria) 

American Goldfinch {Spinus tristis) 

Pine Finch {Spinus pinus) 

Snow Bunting {Plectroplienax nivalis) 

Lapland Longspur {Calcarius lapponicus) 

Grass Finch {Pooccetes gramineus) 

Savanna Sparrow .. {Ammodramus sandivicliensis savanna) 

White-crowned Sparrow {Zonotricliia leucoplirys) 

White-throated Sparrow {Zonotrichia albicollis) 

Tree Sparrow {Spizella monticola) 

Chipping Sparrow {Spizella socialis) 

Field Sparrow {Spizella pusilla) 

Black Snowbird {Junco liyemalis) 

Song Sparrow {Melospiza fasciata) 

Swamp Sparrow {Melospiza georgiana) 

Fox Sparrow {Passerella iliaca) 

Chewink {Pipilo erythroplithalmus) 

Cardinal Grosbeak {Cardinalis cardinalis) 

Eose-breasted Grosbeak {Habia ludoviciana) 

Indigo Bird {Passerina cyanea) 

Scarlet Tanager {Piranga erytliromelas) 

Purple Martin {Progne suiis) 

Cliff, or Eave Swallow {Petrochelidon lunifrons) 

Barn Swallow {Clielidon erythrogaster) 

White-bellied Swallow {Tachycineta iicolor) 



ORNITHOLOGICAL NOMENCLATURE. 251 

Bank Swallow (Olivicola riparia) 

Northern Waxwing {Ampelis garrulus) 

Cherry, or Cedar Bird {Ampelis cedrorum) 

Great Northern Shrike {Lanius iorealis) 

White-rumped Shrike .{Lanius ludovicianus excubitorides) 

Eed-eyed Vireo {Vireo olivaceus) 

Brotherly-love Vireo ( Vireo philadelphicus) 

Warbling Vireo ( Vireo gilvus) 

Yellow-throated Vireo ( Vireo flavifrons) 

Solitary Vireo ( Vireo solitarius) 

White-eyed Vireo ( Vireo noveboracensis) 

Black and White Creeper {Mniotilta varia) 

Blue- Winged Yellow Warbler {Helmintliopliila pinus) 

Golden-winged Warbler {Helmintliopliila chrysoptera) 

Nashville Warbler {Helmintliopliila ruficapilla) 

Blue Yellow-backed Warbler /. .. (Compsothlypis americana) 

Cape May Warbler {Dendroica tigrina) 

Summer Yellow Bird {Dendroica cestiva) 

Black-throated Blue Warbler {Dendroica ccerulescens) 

Yellow-rumped Warbler {Dendroica coronata) 

Cerulean Warbler {Dendroica cccrulea) 

Black and Yellow Warbler, or ) / n ? • i \ 

' [ . . {Dendroica maculosa) 
Magnolia Warbler, ) 

Chestnut-sided Warbler {Dendroica pennsylvanica) 

Bay-breasted Warbler {Dendroica castanca) 

Black-poll Warbler {Dendroica striata) 

Blackburnian Warbler {Dendroica llacJcburnm) 

Black-throated Green Warbler {Dendroica virens) 

Ked-poll Warbler {Dendroica pahnarum hypochrysea) 

Golden-crowned Thrush {Seiurus aurocapittus) 

New York Water Thrush {Sieurus noveboracensis) 



252 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 

Mourning Warbler (Geothlypis Philadelphia) 

Maryland Yellow-throat {Geothlypis trichas) 

Yellow-breasted Chat (Icteria virens) 

Hooded Warbler (Sylvania mitrata) 

Black-capped Yellow Warbler (Sylvania pusilla) 

Canadian Ply-catching Warbler (Sylvania canadensis) 

American Bedstart .(Setophaga ruticilla) 

American Titlark. (Anthus pensylvanicus) 

Cat Bird ( Galeoscoptes carolinensis) 

Brown Thrasher. (Harporhynchus rufus) 

House Wren (Troglodytes cedon) 

Winter Wren (Troglodytes hyemalis) 

Short-billed Marsh Wren ( Cystothorus stellaris) 

Long-billed Marsh Wren ( Cystothorus palustris) 

Brown Creeper (Certhia familiaris americana) 

White-bellied Nuthatch (Sitta carolinensis) 

Ked-bellied Nuthatch (Sitta canadensis) 

Black-capped Chickadee (Partis atricapillus) 

Carolina Chickadee (Pants carolinensis) 

Golden- crowned Kinglet .(Regulus satrapa) 

Euby-crowned Kinglet (Regulus calendula) 

Blue Gray Gnatcatcher (Polioptila ccerulea) 

Wood Thrush ( Turdus mustelinus) 

Wilson's Thrush (Tardus fuscescens) 

Olive-backed Thrush (Turdus ustulatus swainsonii) 

Hermit Thrush (Turdus aonalaschhm) 

Eobin (Merula migratoria) 

Blue Bird (Sialia sialis) 

American Woodcock (Philohela minor) 

Wilson's Snipe ( Gallinago delicata) 

Kildeer (Aegialitis vocifera) 



ORNITHOLOGICAL NOMENCLATURE. 253 

American Quail ( Colinus virginianus 

Partridge, "Buffed Grouse " (Bonasa umbellus 

Passenger Pigeon, "Wild Pigeon" .(Ectopistes migratorius 

Mourning Dove (Zenaidura macroura 

Yellow-billed Cuckoo (Coccyzus americanus 

Black-billed Cuckoo {Coccyzus erytlirophthalmus 

Belted Kingfisher (Ceryle alcyon 

Hairy Woodpecker (Dryobates villosus 

Downy Woodpecker (Dryobates pubescens 

Yellow-billed Woodpecker (Spliyrapicus varius 

Pileated Woodpecker (Ceophloeus pileatus 

Ked-headed Woodpecker (Melanerpes erythrocephalus 

Ked-bellied Woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus 

High-hole, Flicker (Colaptes auratus 

Whip-poor-will (Antrostomus vociferus 

Night Hawk (Chordeiles virginianus 

Chimney Swift (Chaetura pelagica 

Euby-throated Hummingbird (Trocliylus colubris 

Kingbird ( Tyr annus tyr annus 

Great Crested Flycatcher (Myiarchus crinitus 

Phoebe Bird (Sayornis phcebe 

Olive-sided Flycatcher (Uontopus lorealis 

Wood Pewee ( Contopus virens 

Yellow-bellied Flycatcher (Empidonax flavientris 

Least Flycatcher (Empidonax minimus 

Shore Lark (Oiocoris alpestris 

Blue Jay (Cyanocitta crista fa 

Crow (Corvus american us 

Note. — The writer acknowledges Dr. Bergtold and J. F. Cowell as authority for 
-some of the migrants and visitants in the above list. 



